Seeking Vindication
by deliriouslycurious
Summary: "When I mentioned being wooed by hot British guys and the possibility of near death experiences, I had meant it as a joke. Apparently the world accepted it as challenge." Many years have passed since the last catastrophe of a Triwizard Tournament, Hogwarts is hosting once more. However Beauxbatons has declined the invitation and Salem's Witches Institute will be replacing them.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello lovely peoples who have graced my story with your presence! As a forewarning you should know that this is my absolutely first fanfiction, (I've never even written one let alone published one)so I apologize in advance if it elicits the need to gouge your eyes out with the nearest sharp object. If not I hope you enjoy and don't be intimidated by the favorite/follow/review buttons, they aren't as terrifying as they think they are. **

**DISCLAIMER: I unfortunately do not own the wonderful world that is Harry Potter and all it entails. **

Giving the now partially empty room one last quick glance over, double checking all the lanterns are extinguished; I release a sigh and heave my suitcase back out the familiar dorm. Leaving behind the plum walls and deep mahogany furnishings that still smell faintly of cotton candy, due to the incident our second year. There will be no more late night study sessions were we slowly run delirious from our caffeine intake, no more abusive pillow fights regardless of how cliché they were. Cecilia and I won't get to roll our eyes at Morgan's penchant for drama, or giggle at Tiffany and Emmaline's cracked out antics. All of this has reached its end, or at least for three of us, the remaining four will be staying behind. Unfortunately it's Morgan and her glorious sidekick Jessica accompanying me; they aren't terrible it's just they make me want to practice silencing charms. And test their permanency. Aside from our spaces everyone else's uniforms, books, quills and parchments are still thrown haphazardly throughout the room. While mine are packed neatly into my tiny green retro suitcase, which miraculously all fit with credit to the undetectable extendable charm, along with all my personal items that used to hang around my bed and sit on my dresser. I finally took down the plastic glow in the dark stars that have been there since first year, carefully tucking them away. It's doubtful that I'll actually need them in Scotland but I wanted to bring them with me for kicks and giggles. Who would ever think that so many memories can be tied into one dormitory?

My mind feels like it is being assaulted by a whirlwind of emotions each trying to stake their claim. Nostalgia, sorrow, excitement, curiosity, anxiety, but the one common thread weaving through them all is determination. After six years of spending my time here learning, it's odd knowing my last year will be spent somewhere else. However if I take a moment to look beyond my own selfish emotions, I almost pity the other unsuspecting students. At least we know in advance a vague idea of what is happening, and they are simply left in the dark until the last possible moment. The slightly mischievous side of me finds it somewhat comical and I'm anxious to see their reactions. I console myself knowing they didn't have to endure the mountain of apprehension that has decided to relocate onto my shoulders until this very moment. Then again how exactly do you expect a bunch of seventeen year olds be able to pack all their belongs for the school year without telling them that there school is participating in this year's Triwizard Tournament?

After the catastrophe that occurred the last time the Triwizard Tournament took place, the Ministry had been hesitant to host another one since. But after years of perusing it the Minister for Magic of the United Kingdom, Kingsley Shacklebolt, accomplished just that. From what I've read in the _Spectral Herald,_ Shacklebolt has been campaigning that it would be an opportunity that should be utilized to fortify the bond between the younger magical generations once again. It would allow cross cultural relationships to form, supporting a unified magical community. However part of his plan fell flat when he couldn't convince the French Ministry to cooperate. The Beauxbatons Academy didn't express interest to participate once again after the slight they were dealt in 1994. Still distraught that Hogwarts was admitted two champions while they still had to make due with just one. I'd heard from my friend Sophia, who often visits her family in France, that they also weren't inclined to spending another "meezerable" year at Hogwarts. Apparently it's not up to their standards and the climate is too harsh for their delicate demeanors. Or at least that's what she tells us, we laugh at the idea of them spending a winter in the Colonial U.S. Their loss has become our gain though, to fill in the gap Shacklebolt instead extended the invitation to the Salem's Witches Institute and our brother school Ipswich Wizards Institute. The two counterparts joined together in 1893 to become the Essex Institute for the Magically Gifted, for short we just call it EIM. Of course we leapt at the chance to prove our worth; it always seems like the American magical community gets forgotten. As if we are a separate entity that is neglected and allowed to do as it sees fit. Which is nice in a way, but still disconcerting. I guess we all yearn for a form of validation.

Continuing the track downward I lug my suitcase down the steps making a satisfying _thunk_ _thunk thunk_ sound every time it hits the next platform. "Oh no there's an elephant stampede coming our way, clear the area; CLEAR THE AREA!" Finishing the last stairs I look up to see Cecilia and Emmaline waiting at the bottom of the stairs in the common room. Verifying that the loud southern draw was indeed coming from the latter, they've always found it amusing how I still carry out most tasks without magic preferring my mundane nature. I find it lazy to levitate my bags down rather than just simply carry them. Emmaline has her tiny arms splayed out as if protecting any one standing behind her from my descent of the stairs, head darting from left to right like she's checking on peoples wellbeing. I'm not sure what she thinks she can accomplish with her tiny curvy frame, she can hardly stretch her one arm past Cecilia's body. At only 5'5 I still tower over her, but I suppose that's what makes her best suited to be our seeker.

"Your jealousy is showing Emmy, I am nothing if not the epitome of grace and poise." I automatically retort delivering my most lady-like curtsey.

"Yes Sawyer you have all the grace of a raging Yeti attempting the foxtrot." Cecilia answers in between snorts of laughter her long dark brown curls being tossed over her shoulder as she shoves Em's arms back. She momentarily looks irritated but it quickly sputters out into delight. I'm secretly convinced that she was Tinkerbell in a past life, they both share light blonde hair (although hers is currently cropped into a pixie cut, very suiting) delicate facial features and a small frame but it goes beyond that. Neither of them seems to hold more than one emotion at a time, whatever she's feeling she puts her all into it regardless of how dangerous the outcome may be. You can always tell when Em is about to do something devious because there will be a mischievous quirk to her lips and a twinkle in her eye, both of which I'm noticing right now.

"Touché." I say slowly waiting to see what she's about to do. Next thing I know I am being bombarded with hugs and being squeezed as we become an entanglement of girly limbs and my luggage is knocked out of my hands. Waves of affection crash over me; these are my very best friends. Six years of living together and going through puberty, sharing classes, meals, laughter and a fair amount of tears will do that to you. So much time and effort has gone into creating secret handshakes, inside jokes, coordinated walks; a lot of bonding will occur when you attend a school with no means of electronics. Entertainment requires imagination and we had it in spades. We were the three musketeers, three amigos and if you ask Emmy we were the three narwhales (she's convinced they're magical relatives of unicorns and are lucky in sets of three).

"Our little muggle has grown up so much." Emmy wails right in my ear while we're still embracing. Oddly enough to her that actually is a form of endearment. Even though that word used to sting, in her familiar twang it's loving. I guess that's just a part of being southern, coming from Oklahoma she has this ability to say just about anything and it will sound sweeter than peach cobbler

"Psshhh I put the muggle in muggleborn." I finish weakly the lame joke that we thought was clever all those years ago. I'm kind of a novelty at the Salem's Witches Institute, I'm the first muggleborn to be admitted in, well, I think ever. The history on it is a bit iffy so no one knows for certain; the founders of the school were originally Sarah Solart, Sarah Warren, and Tituba. For anyone who has even the slightest knowledge of the Salem witch trials will recognize those names as the woman who were first accused of witch craft. Due to the violent history between the founders and the villagers there had never been admission to muggleborns, until 6 years ago that is. It's not that they are pure blood elitist; there are plenty of witches and wizards with varying blood statuses. People marry muggles all the time, of course there are still a few who pride themselves on purity. But in my opinion that's their loss, I mean you can only interbreed so many times until it starts affecting the gene pool.

At first most students and even a few teachers gave me a wide berth because I was an anomaly; I still remember how some of the meaner students would say I reeked of torches. Girls like Alexandria King. They thought it was clever because it was one of the ways muggles would execute "witches" during the Salem trials, burning them at the stake. However my ostracization didn't last long. One day she and her clique had me corned after taking my wand away yelling cruel names at me saying I didn't deserve to be there. From seemingly out of nowhere they started falling to the ground paralyzed and when I looked up from my crouch I saw Cecilia with Emmaline not far behind standing there panting heavy, wands still raised. Everyone involved had a months' worth of detention, and Alexandria and them had two months for instigating. The three of us have been best friends ever since. That's when I first realized what it truly meant to be in Solartia, even though they hardly knew me. In Solartia we're a family, we're a pack, loyalty goes a far way even though you may not like someone you still have to protect them; and they did just that.

"Okay you tiny midgets let go of me!" I shriek at them as I try to struggle out of their death grip and my memories. But to no avail I accomplished nothing in the physical, only my thoughts falling off.

"You know the rules Sawyer." Cecilia reminds me, squeezing me extra hard to prove she won't let go. "On the count of three, one-two-three!" At three we all released our loudest and best imitation of a wolves howl, some of us are eerily better than others. Dissolving into a fit of giggles we finally let go each other so that we can breathe again.

"Do you really have to go; you could stay here and just skip the whole deal. We could even tell them that you have become deathly ill and are incapable of leaving the campus." Emmy whines this at me sporting her best puppy face, except it's so exaggerated it looks more like a pink slug has taken residency on her lower lip. At 17 we are all capable of behaving maturely but we don't feel the need to use a façade that we're beyond the age of still kidding around. Unlike some of peers we're comfortable with who we have become and refuse to let go of our inner child.

"Or you guys could just come with us! It's not like you don't meet the requirements. I mean just think at the possibilities, traveling, adventure, near death experiments, hot British guys." Waggling my eyebrows on the last point I offer them my cheesiest grin.

"Yeah if only I weren't the Solartia Quidditch team captain." Em quickly responds. "It's not like we aren't already losing one of our best players." Narrowing her eyes at my decision to forfeit my position as chaser, I fight off my guilt knowing that Travis a 3rd year in our house showed great potential and should prove a fair chaser. Besides they'll still have Alice and Jace. I had always been fascinated with flying; even before I found out I was a witch. As kids my brothers and I would take turns jumping off the top bunk with objects to see who could "float" the longest. So of course when during our first year we received flying lessons, I was instantly drawn to it. Which isn't to say I was naturally good, rather the opposite really. At first I couldn't even get the broom to raise, I slid off of it, and acquainted my face with the trees around campus more than I care to admit. But I was determined to perfect the skill and joined the Solartia team my 2nd year after one of the backup chasers was seriously injured. I've been a fixture on the team ever since, until now.

"Sissy you know I would love to, but I can't just ignore that I'm Head Girl. However the British guys' aspect is tempting." Cecilia says rapidly to divert Em's irritation, she slips in the term so easily that it reminds just how close we are. Although the three of us our best friends, I'm even closer to Cecilia. We often introduce ourselves to strangers as sisters getting a kick out of their dubious looks, it started a couple of years ago and calling each other Sissy stuck. Cecilia and I share almost no common features except that we're both human and female. She possesses this exotic quality from her Hispanic heritage, with big deep brown eyes, naturally full lips, and loose dark brown curls. Not to mention her short albeit voluptuous figure, needless to say she turns heads. While in contrast I look like your typical American girl next door, rocking the round face, large almond shaped hazel eyes, and wavy blonde hair. Don't get me wrong I'm not insecure about my appearance, I come across fairly pretty I'm just nothing spectacular.

"Yeah I know." I pout at them. "But it won't prevent my slow descent into depression of being without my two favorite people in the world," Heaving dramatically I throw my wrist across my forehead to demonstrate my weariness. After glancing down at my watch I notice its twenty minutes after ten and I'm supposed to be at the main courtyard for our departure at 10:30. "Sorry guys but if I don't leave now I'm going to be late."

Barricading me from leaving once more, Emmaline holds up her hand stopping me. What is truly concerning are the impish looks they're both sharing. "Close your eyes," Em barks at me "and no peaking!" Doing as I'm told I set my bag down once more and cover my eyes with my hands. All I can hear is a rattling metallic sound and mysterious muttering. "OPEN!"

When I raise my eyelids I'm not even sure what I'm seeing at first, they have it shoved so close to my face that the bars are almost bumping my nose. Looking beyond that I see a wide pair of black eyes edged with tawny and white feathers leading out to a perfect heart shaped outline of the beautiful creature. "You guys got me an owl!" My elated squeal was probably heard throughout campus but I couldn't care less. I have my own owl, over the years I've always just used the schools because I didn't see the point of having one. The only people I wrote to were my family. Over the holidays majority of my friends had internet and therefore Facebook so that's how we kept in touch.

"We couldn't not be able to talk to you the entire school year, so this was the only solution." My sister informs me reasonably with a dazzling smile gracing her features. Without my permission, my eyes began to water at the overwhelming emotion. Gah I'm overreacting today, curse my female hormones amplifying every tiny little thing. Wiping at my eyes I hug them once again thanking them repeatedly until they threaten to smack me if I don't stop. Emmaline kindly reminds me that I have three minutes or I am going to be late, and also that my new owl's name is Narwhal (of course she already named him that; it would go against their morals to give him a normal name).

As I'm walking out of the common room for the last time with my suitcase and newly acquired Narwhal in hand I hear Emmy yelling over my shoulder "Go show those cocky Europeans just how bad ass we Americans can be and bring home that Triwizard Cup!" Without turning around I vaguely hear Cecilia telling her that you can't use it as a gauntlet and drink alcohol from it. Yeah she's a charmer that one.

XXX

Tearing through the campus I desperately try to reach the courtyard in time, I could kill those two for making me late. I had set aside plenty of time to make it to the meeting place with even some to spare. But then they had to go and get all sentimental and sweet and give me Narwhal, just the thought of his name makes me giggle. Or at least I would have if I wasn't panting for breath, its moments like these that make me wish that apparating was a possibility on campus. Taking the last left turn past one of the archaic brick buildings used for lower level classes that leads to the courtyard, I'm almost there when I collide into another body. My bags go flying along with Narwhal's cage as I come crashing to the ground. Disoriented I groan at the pain of catching myself on my elbow, biting my lip against the pain I raise up to see what happened to find no one else but Alexandria King lurking above me. Yay, my favorite tormentor.

"Oh my Sawyer, I am so sorry I didn't see you there!" She girlishly squeals in her fake sweet voice like it was truly an accident. I quit giving her the benefit of the doubt over five years ago "I was just coming to get you, we were all so worried, that you had changed your mind about going." Knowing her she's more likely to hex me to ensure I don't go. Glancing beyond her tall figure I see that she's drawn quite the attention and is putting on a rather lovely little show. Extending her hand out to me, I realize I don't have a lot of options for the situation. Alexandria likes to play the perfect little witch who does no wrong and is kind to everyone; she's always reminded me of deceiving candy coated dragon feces. I'd rather eat my own shoe than take her offered hand, but if I don't I'll just come off looking like the bad person. Assessing this all within the span of three seconds, I take her sickeningly smooth hand plastering on my most convincing smile letting her pull me back up. When I'm once more on my feet she drops my hands and moves to pick up my scattered belongings. Grabbing a very flustered Narwhal in his cage I wheel back around as she is giving my suitcase back to me. She leans just close enough to be in my face and mouths MUDBLOOD at me. Well two can play this game. Locking arms with her I put a bounce in my step like we're just the best of gal pals

"You know Lexitive," I start in a falsely cheerful tone, tacking on her most loathed nickname. "I'd rather be a mudblood any day than dare think of the mutations going on in your polluted gene pool from all the incestuous interbreeding." I say this low enough so no one but her can hear, but from afar we just look like two excited girls gabbing away. Letting go of her arm I flutter my fingers at her and catch up with the rest of the group waiting for us without sparing her a second glance, I would bet five gallons she's already seething with anger.

There are exactly twenty of us going to Hogwarts to potentially compete in the Triwizard Tournament, ten from Tituba, seven from Solartia, and a huge intimidating three from Warren. Nine females and eleven males, although I'm still pretty bummed that neither Sissy or Em are going. Luckily for me Sebastian Quinn is going, if I had to pick a third best friend it would be him.

"Sawyer!" speak of the devil. "I was wondering what rabbit hole you had fallen down this time, you're normally so punctual." He kindly chides casting his sage green eyes _down at me_. And when I say this I mean it, at a disturbing 6'5 he's easily the tallest at school. If I hadn't seen for myself just how slight he was during first year I never would have believed it. He had always been the smallest of our year and most kids didn't hesitate to point this out to him, even a few of our housemates. That's probably why we grew so close, the lovely bond of being outcasts. But when we came back for third year he had sprung up to a staggering 5'10 and was gaining some muscle to his previous skin and bones frame. Puberty was treating him kindly and people were noticing. Since then he's become everyone's favorite person, he's always been amiable, funny and charming it just took the rest awhile to recognize it.

"Oh you know I had to say my goodbyes to Tweedle and Tweedledum," I respond affectionately sidling up next to him. "then had a lovely encounter with my favorite Queen of Hearts." Rolling my eyes at her petty behavior, I kind of feel bad sinking to her level and verbally lashing out at her. But if I hadn't she would of kept digging her figurative talons in until she got a reaction.

"Yeah I saw, down kitty." Laughing at his own cleverness he makes a pathetic meow sound forming his hand into an imitation of a claw. Alexandria being in Tituba where the house mascot is a black cat or panther depending on whom you're asking.

"Solartian's don't meow we ferociously growl." I retort playfully narrowing my eyes, to further prove my point I jokingly bite at his bicep that is at my level. What can I say I'm a wolf through and through.

"You really should see a professional about your odd tendency to bite people." He tells me in a fake scold, I've been doing that for years and I have yet to see it bother him.

"It's how I show my love, I like to think that it just adds to my quirky charm." Batting my eyelashes up at him, as obnoxiously as I can. Looking around I notice that we haven't even made the preparations of leaving, the other students are still milling about with their luggage on the ground just chatting. "Hey where is-"

"Headmistress Milton, right behind you my dear." I give a slight jump at her abrupt appearance but it actually isn't that uncommon for her. Headmistress Milton is a relatively unassuming figure with average height and build, plain black hair with silver threaded through it, and gentle brown eyes who appears to look fifty. But I wouldn't recommend judging her by looks alone she's much older than that and the furthest thing from average; she is a wily old bat with an eccentric sense of humor. She's also incredibly caring, fair, and would do anything for her students. Milton can be stern when need be, earning your respect not demanding it from you although she more than deserves it.

"Sawyer, although it does warm an old woman's heart to see your enthusiasm for being a Solartian, if you could refrain from biting Mr. Quinn I would be much obliged." A genuine smile crosses my features as I hear her say this, as a student here she was also in Solartia. Unlike some of the faculty she has never treated me poorly because of my heritage and if anything almost favors me.

"Alright students," she turns addressing the entire group easily capturing their attention smiling at each and every one of them. "I know you are all excited about the trip. However decorum requires that I remind you that this is a privilege, not a right. You have proved your worthiness of this honor as exemplary young adults and I expect it to remain this way. Any extreme shenanigans or tomfoolery occurring and I will send you right back here without even sparing it a second thought." At this she pauses and pointedly looks at Blake Thompson and Jason Maddox, the class clowns of our year. "If you are carrying out such behavior, do try to at least not get caught. We have a reputation to not only uphold but also improve. You will treat both the faculty and the facilities with the utmost respect. As well as their students" Glancing down at her watch, she tuts at the unsatisfactory time. "Now we must head down to the old pier on the beach that is where we will be departing for Hogwarts. And do make haste." Having been properly dismissed, we all start shuffling about picking back up our belongings as we begin the five minute walk to the pier. Nodding at Sebastian with a nervous grin on my face we start our descent.

Campus is actually located on one of the many islands that rest on the coastline of Massachusetts in the Salem Sound; it's roughly five miles in its circumference and has both a forest and a small lake within it. To the untrained eye you'll just see a vast landscape of more ocean, and the magic surrounding it will maneuver the ship around the island unbeknownst to them. Think of it as the Bermuda Triangle, no one can ever find it. The only place you are capable of apparating is on the singular pier where we arrive and depart every year.

"I wonder if we're just apparating there or what?" Sebastian asks somewhat bitterly. "Milton hasn't budged on giving anything away; she says it's a 'surprise'". He has a problem with not knowing something; his curiosity practically eats him alive and I sometimes question if he should be in Tituba because of it.

"We're about to find out." I mutter back as we reach the pier, walking down the old rickety wood I take my steps cautiously afraid of falling into the brackish water. It's not that I can't swim, I love swimming; but I've been told horror stories of what it is that wades in the water to prevent intruders. As we reach the end of the peer it's no mystery what we're all thinking 'What's next?' With the question resting just on the tip of my tongue Milton raises one hand to signify that we need to be quiet. Seconds tick by turning into minutes as we silently wait, for what we don't know. Peering out into the empty waters I notice a vague object start to peak on the horizon. Whatever it is, it's getting concernedly larger by the millisecond until I'm seeing a small roundish island about forty feet wide that wasn't there just a minute ago. It appears to be just like any other island with a rock encrusted shore ebbing away to some sparse foliage. I've seen many weird things since starting Essex, even turned Sebastian into a platypus once but this has got to take the cake; nothing can out trump this. And then it popped its enormous turtle head up, I stand corrected.

"For any of you familiar with _Dreadful Denizens of the Deep_ you will be able to recognize this magnificent creature as an aspidochelone, his name is Nicodemus and he will be our form of transportation."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Welcome back second timers! Luckily for me you have deemed this story worthy of your time to read another chapter. I am writing this for my own pleasure because I enjoy doing so but it fills me with joy and sunshine to see that other people are getting entertainment out of it too! You'll notice that this chapter is from Rose's point of view and not Sawyer's. The way I have this planned out is that every so often I will alternate perspectives; I just find that it sets up a nice rounded out story and really shows off the relationships between characters. In case you're curious Sawyer is the main protagonist and most sections will be told from her, but every once in a while I will throw in some Rose and eventually some Scorpius. **

**On I side note, thank you to welcome2michaeland! This story right now is my figurative baby and I appreciate that you took the time to not only read it but to write a review. And as for the "foil" it is currently Alexandria (Lexitive *tee hee I like to think I'm clever*), but I'm not opposed to see where the character development will take the story. **

**DISCLAIMER: If for some deranged reason you think I'm J.K. Rowling and own Harry Potter you are seriously mistaken. **

* * *

_The three alchemical stages preceding rubedo were nigredo (blackness) which represented putrefication and spiritual death, albedo (whiteness) which represented purification, and thirdly citrinitas (yellowness); the solar dawn or awakening. The symbols used in alchemical writing and art to represent this red stage can include blood, a phoenix, a rose, a crown-_

"Merlin's saggy pants Rose, I've been trying to get your attention for ages." Snapping my head up from the reading, I find Noah Goldstein peering down at me quizzically. "What exactly has you so engrossed that you are incapable of hearing your own name repeatedly?" Without a word I tilt the book up so that he can see it where it clearly says _Alchemy, Ancient Art and Science by Argo Pyrites_, choosing not to answer him after being addressed so rudely. Noah and I get along well enough; we both understand that in order to carry out Head duties flawlessly we have to set aside our personal differences and focus on our responsibilities. It works great, most of the time.

I can practically see the gears turning in his head as he considers whether or not to remark on how I spend my time or just say what brought him to the library looking for me. Not that he has much room to judge me for rereading a book; he is in Ravenclaw after all. "What is it Noah?" Might as well take the option away from him so another row doesn't happen.

"McGonagall wants us in her office" Well that's not highly improbable; this allotted time is actually for that. Happiness cannot describe my feelings when I saw that we would have an added free period during the week and mine fell just before the other so after double potions if there's not a meeting I have the rest of the day off. The meetings usually happen about once a month with the Headmistress, to have a basic discussion about the students. It's not that she felt we needed to be coddled, but rather she likes brief updates so that she would remain aware and connected.

"Oh, well alright then." That's a bit odd, we had just seen her last week what else could there be to talk about? As quickly and carefully as I can, I place my books, spare bits of parchment, and quills back into my rucksack. There's quite a ways to travel before we can even exit the library. Unless we took one of the secret passage ways that leads to second floor but I'm not keen on being in a dark creepy tunnel with him. I favor the second level far in the back in the Invisibility Section it's the furthest point from the entrance. It's convenient because most people don't know it's there, and I can study for hours without interruption. Glancing over my shoulder I see that Noah is still piddling about, lagging behind me. "Come on then, let's not wait for the grass to grow."

X X X

The Headmaster's office has always had a mind of its own; jumping from one location to the next every year like a frog determining which lily pad is the most comfortable. This year it has decided on the Second Floor right past Professor Robard's room. With the gargoyle statue looming in the distance I speed up my pace, eager to see what all the fuss is about. It doesn't possibly have anything to do with the awkward tension teeming between Noah and I that you could practically cut with a dull blade, no not at all.

"Cymric" It emits a groaning metallic sound as it gyrates downward allowing us passage to the spiral staircase. I reach the top a lot faster than Noah, by going two at a time giving me a moment to straighten out my gleaming crimson and gold tie and attempt to comb my unruly red locks with my fingers.

"Ready?" He curtly nods at me and reaching past me sharply knocks on the cherry wood.

"Come in, come in." The circular room is sparsely furnished as ever, each object in the room serving a purpose. There's the an elaborate wooden desk with two matching high backed chairs facing it. Despite her furniture choice the room still emits a cozy atmosphere due to the thousands of books housed on the continuous shelves and the line of portraits of previous Headmasters. Over the years I had noticed that she doesn't find it necessary to fill her office with superfluous objects like trinkets, with a few exceptions.

"Mr. Goldstein, I sent for you. Knocking was not necessary." Miraculously I somehow manage to not giggle at this, McGonagall isn't really known for her tolerance of foolishness either. "Nevertheless, do sit down. I have some imperative matters to discuss with you two."

Not one to waste time on frivolous filler words, McGonagall gets straight to the point. No later than my bag is on the ground and skirt just hitting the hard wood chair does she began "Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament once more this year." I'm sorry what was that, wrackspurts must be floating about somewhere in here. Next to me I hear Noah's sharp inhale of breath. "Judging by your expressions it easy to assume that you are both aware of what it is." She pauses for the slightest of moments for confirmation as we hollowly nod our heads. "You must know that I was against withholding this information from the students, in 1994 they were told at the Start-of-the-Term feast. Unfortunately I and a few of the other faculty were outvoted for telling you in advance. They were under the impression that it would make a nice 'surprise' for the students to find out only a day prior." Their knowledge of how the teenage mind and its erratic emotions have apparently become dusty over the years. "I personally find that decision rude, that you weren't owed the consideration of preparing yourselves." Heaving a sigh with the gist of her rant being over, she composes herself once more before continuing. "Alas those are the cards we have been dealt, and we must carry on. But there is more"

Really? What more could there possibly be than that we are hosting one of the most legendary and historically catastrophic events? Will the champions be competing blind-folded, or even worse are they opening to all ages?

"Upon being informed of the Tournament the Beauxbatons Academy did not express interest in their involvement. For whatever reason that may be, it is unimportant now." Maybe Dominque and Louis will know something about it, if I remember correctly their French cousins on their mother's side attend Beauxbatons. I'll have to ask them. "Shacklebolt has instead extended the invitation to the Essex Institute for the Magically Gifted." Oh great Americans, my favorite. I'm so looking forward to having people gawk over my accent and familial background, _not_. "Durmstrang will be competing with us once again." I've heard my fair share of Triwizard Tournament stories from both my parents and Uncle Harry, but amongst all the thrilling tales and tragic loss I specifically remember my Dad grumbling about a 'Durmstrang git'.

"In addition to the preexisting rules, the Ministry has placed a few more stipulations. Last time this was held, the visiting students remained outside the castle in their own accommodations joining us only for classes, meals, and the events." That's true; from time to time Hagrid will still rave about their majestic Abraxen Horses. A dreamy twinkle will flash in his eyes and his cheeks take on a ruddy red color. Dad is convinced he still harbors a torch for Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons Headmistress. "This will not be the case this year. It has been coordinated that every visiting student will be partnered with a Hogwarts equal gender and age. They will be their host of sorts, the student will stay in the dorm with you, partake in meals at your table and you'll essentially be their escort until they have properly adjusted." The matches were chosen prior to the school year based on personalities.

Just bloody fantastic, a host? That's the term they picked, it makes us sound like some parasitic creature will inhabit our bodies sucking away our life source until we're empty husks. I've always wanted to be a personal au pair. As previously being a prefect and now Head Girl I've had to watch over students, but it was never been a one on one basis. Hopefully there's a Durmstrang student I can pick that's quiet and won't bother me too much. I don't have time to babysit some dollop on top of all my other responsibilities.

"Furthermore," McGonagall casts her gaze sharply at me, I swear she practices Legilimency. "The matches have been made far in advance, and already selected for you. There will be no trading. While you may not consider this an ideal situation," She narrows her eyes at me once more. "It has already been decided and I expect the both of you to not only encourage this system but also uphold it."

Reining my melodrama back in, I remind myself that I am Head Girl, top of my class, daughter of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. If they were capable of taking down Voldemort, than I shouldn't be fretting over a seventeen year old girl.

"Each hosting student will be receiving a piece of paper with their person, their school and an image of them so they're recognizable when they arrive. I will be announcing this to the rest of the students on Friday during dinner; they are to arrive Saturday late afternoon. After the Welcoming Feast, students of age will be able to submit their name to be considered as the representative of their school. The Goblet will be open until the next day at the beginning of the Hallowe'en feast. Then the champions will be announced." I hope the professors give us homework accordingly. They probably won't.

"Because of your stations you have been considered worthy of knowing a week prior. Do not abuse this privilege and do not breathe a word of it to another student. Any questions? Weasley, Goldstein?"

"No Ma'am." Politeness is key at the moment, since she wasn't keen on my reaction of the host situation.

There is a shuffling of papers and then we are being handed two small envelopes with our names delicately scrawled across the middle. I notice mine is in a rich purple color while Noah's is a deep red, peculiar. "You're dismissed." She waves us off dismissively already moving to the next matter of business. I don't release the breath I'm holding until I've exited her office and am again in the Second Floor corridor. Too peeved about the meeting, I see Noah skulking past me headed for what I assume is his last class. Leaning against the stone wall I take the smooth cream envelope in my hands and run the tip of my wand over it neatly slicing the top open. Deftly taking out the even smaller slip of paper out and unfold it. Skip straight to the words not even bothering with the picture.

Sawyer Grayson

The Essex Institute for the Magically Gifted

Solartia

Turning on my heel I find myself facing the opposing stone wall, finding the niche seven stones up, thirteen to the right there's a minuscule symbol of a scroll pushing it in the wall slides slightly backwards revealing a secret passage way. Scurrying through it quickly, because it will reset in fifteen seconds I head to the only place where I know how to console myself: the library.

XXX

Calling it "conflicted" is one way of putting it, bipolar is another. As Head Girl you would think the title would mean something, for example knowing very important events that will take place this year. I was sadly mistaken, I still struggle knowing that they waited until the week before to inform the Head Boy and Girl. At least we had that, everyone else just found out last night. That went about as well as I imagined it would, pure chaos. There were so many emotions at once I thought that the Great Hall was going to burst open with them and they would come raining down in brightly colored streamers. Anger: for not knowing until a day before the students were to arrive. Excitement: at the prospect of becoming the Hogwarts champion and potentially winning the Cup. Disappointment: for the younger pupils who were not old enough to enter their name. Curiosity: the mystery of the foreign students was intriguing on its own, but considering most knew little if not nothing of the American school and their interest was tenfold. I was just relieved that everyone else finally knew. There were several times during the past week that I caught myself biting my tongue so I wouldn't give it away. Thank Merlin that Albus and Scor are in Slytherin and not Gryffindor because they would have been more suspicious if I was avoiding them in the common room too. They knew something was going on and wouldn't stop badgering me so I hid from them, bravery at its finest.

Most of my time was spent in the library researching, which isn't too strange for me; I just don't normally sneak my meals in there. If I had to spend majority of my time with this Sawyer Grayson I was going to learn as much as I could about her school before their arrival. I didn't want any tricky surprises, like they practice blood sacrifices as a rite of passage. Or something equally disturbing.

You'd be surprised how much information there is on the American magical schooling system, and by that I mean practically nonexistent. My first thought was to look in the Education and Academic section of the library. But I only found a few lines mentioning them here and there, pulling my very little knowledge of what I knew about them I figured I should research in the historical section instead and look for the Salem Witch Trials. Needless to say there was plenty of it and it was disturbing.

In 1690 three witches took it upon themselves to open a school for witches just on the outskirts of Salem, Massachusetts. Sarah Good (nee Solart), Sarah Osborne (nee Warren) and Tituba were the founders of Salem's Witches Institute, with less than twenty students ranging from eleven to seventeen. They were housed and educated in an estate owned by Sarah Osborne a few miles from the village. All was well for two years, and then the horrors began. Stories started about figures being seen riding broomsticks through the night sky, a large wolf traipsing throughout the village, strange noises coming from the Osborne Home for Girls. Rumors can be handled, whispered judgments to be managed, but when two of the younger students retaliated to the cruelty of local girls and hexed them things quickly spiraled out of control.

To spare the children Solart, Warren and Tituba stepped forward taking the blame. For in part it was theirs to bear, if they had been more cautious of their recreational time, if Solart had kept to the woods while in her animagus form, or if they had emphasized to the students' kindness and to rise above pettiness maybe events wouldn't have come to extremes. So many ifs and maybes but the result was inevitable. The three founders were executed and the institute disbanded, some of the students escaped but not all.

Hunts were held to find the girls that had the same markings found on the three founders; the muggles thought they were symbols of the devil. When in actuality they were the insignia to represent each Witch, Solart bore a wolf on the back of her neck, Warren a bird resembling an Albatross on her wrist, and lastly Tituba a black cat found just below the collar bone. Although the institute was too small to have houses at the time, each witchling student bore one of the three marks to indicate which founder they were the most alike. Solart was known for her unfailing loyalty, compassion, and bravery; represented by a wolf (her animagus form). Warren known for imagination, resilience, and independent spirit, likened to an albatross. Lastly Tituba was characteristically enigmatic, intelligent and astute, the black cat. The book was vague on how exactly the tattoos were administered to the students but apparently it is a magical occurrence that it will appear on their flesh.

Over fifty years passed until the school was opened once more by the daughter of Warren, going by her father's name Dorothy Good. During the trials she was held captive but being only four was eventually released. Dorothy bided her time finding the few scattered former students, and many new that came from magical families that had immigrated to America. When she felt secure enough she reestablished the institute in a new location. It resides on a fairly large island off of the Massachusetts coast line. The only change since then was the admission of male students. The Headmistress succeeding Good, had a brother who opened another institution in the nearby town of Ipswich solely for the education of young wizards, Ipswich Wizards Institute. In 1878 there was yet another attempt against the magical community known as the Second Salem Witch Trial, specifically targeting Ipswich's Headmaster Spofford. This time around the accusations did not hold in "court", however the two institutes found it the most logical to join them into one campus so there would be less chance of muggle interaction. Especially since the campus was located on an island. It eventually became known as the Essex Institute for the Magically Gifted. This would be the Essex's first organized interaction with Hogwarts. I wonder if their students had been given the courtesy of knowing farther in advance about the Triwizard Tournament.

Hogwarts own had been frantic all day, cleaning up the dorms and the common rooms. Wandering through the halls to check the process I heard more gossiping than I care to from the witches about the "fresh crop of meat", I'm not sure why they thought that phrase made sense and I lost a little bit of respect for them after as much. However I can't say much better of the male students, who were just as curious about the visiting female students if not more so.

It was just after six and the entirety of the Hogwarts populace was waiting the arrival of the schools by the Black Lake. Mum told me that last time Durmstrang had arrived via large ship that came from underneath the Black Lake's shores. I wonder if they'll do the same this year. We were given no hints about either Institutes method of transportation except the stories of the past. Hopefully it's nothing boring like the Hogwarts Express of Floo Powder.

Noah and I as Head Boy and Girl were grouped closer to the front with the faculty, so we have a great view if anything besides the giant squid starts to come out of the water. I hope they do so soon, the sun is already beginning to set and we will lose the advantage of daylight to see their spectacular arrival.

Habitually I cast my vision to the mass of students behind me to check for any misbehaving kids. The prefects are sporadically placed throughout the crowd for that reason. Doing a quick sweep over I catch Scorpius's eye and he mimes an exaggerated yawn. I know the feeling, I don't see Al near him but then again he's not a Prefect. Scorpius is the tamer of the two who always tries to rationalize with Albus, but it doesn't work that often. Besides my favorite cousin and best friend is still a bit miffed with me for not telling him about the Tournament.

"What is that?" The singular voice dripping with marvel stands out amongst the mindless chatter. I quickly whip my head back forward to see what's going on. There's what seems to be a black speck floating on the surface of the water about a hundred meters out. And its size is increasing every time I blink. The rapidly moving land mass lurches to a sudden stop ten meters from the shore and I can make out a group of around twenty people standing in an orderly fashion on an island no bigger than the Entrance Hall. This is hard to admit, but I don't even know what they're on. The figures are still standing motionless as if they're waiting for something to happen. Just a stone's throw away I see another mound rising from the water, much smaller than the other lump. It just happens to be the oversized head of a turtle. Gasps and applause break out from the people surrounding me after they have moved back several steps. A cacophony of whispers about what the creature is, I guess not many have heard the epic tales of the majestic aspidochelone. I thought it would be bigger.

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**Random little tid bit, I actually did quite a lot of research on the Salem Witch Trials so that the story would be more substantial but you should know that I manipulated a few of the facts so that they would better fit my story. Also the opening line from the alchemy book Rose is reading is actually taken from a Wikipedia page about Alchemy because I seriously am lacking in knowledge of it. That is all :D hope you weren't bored to death while reading it. These first two chapters have been slow because there was a lot of ground work to be laid out, it should be picking up here soon. if you have any comments, suggestions, advice, questions or rants about penguins feel free to leave a review :). See you next time!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: ERH MERH GERD CHERPTER THREE! Third time is the charm right? Have oodles of fun reading this because I can assure you that I did writing it :)!**

**DISCLAIMER: Shocking as it may be, I still don't own Harry Potter :(**

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How the holy hippogriff am I supposed to find Rose Weasley in all this mess, I kind of figured her deep red hair would make her stand out amongst the masses. I was wrong, it's like a ginger convention is happening here. On the shore there are red heads dotted consistently throughout the crowd of people welcoming us, I had to contain my laughter when they all jumped at Nicodemus raising his head. I'd grown used to his behavior over the past two days of traveling with him. As long as he didn't decide that we would make a tasty little magical snack, we were on good terms. How Milton convinced an infant aspidochelone to be our transportation, I will never know and I'm not certain that I want to. Especially since Nicodemus is only a "baby", and at half the size of a football field I'm a bit terrified how big the mama is.

We've arrived, the extendable tents have been properly stowed, and now we just have to exit the turtle. How exactly are we planning on getting to shore? I'm not really down for swimming at the moment, especially in that murky water. Not that it wouldn't make a fabulous great first impression; I call it _chic de drowned rat. _Just as I'm thinking this Headmistress Milton summons drift wood onto Nicodemus and into row boats to get us to shore, now I get it. Shuffling forward with the rest of the group to get into the boats, each of them seats five to six people.

Ah there's my favorite genteel giant "Sawyer over here." Sebastian waves me over to the boat furthest away that he's sharing with Jason and Michael, both fellow Solartians. There should be two seats left but with their huge bodies, it's dwindled down to one. I stroll over there glad to meet the Hogwarts students in familiar company, and I can always duck behind Sebastian's hulking figure if need be. At ten feet from the boat, a tall curvy figure gracefully slides into the remaining seat tossing her chestnut tresses over her shoulder in a dismissive manner. _Think happy thoughts Sawyer, happy thoughts, slaughtering her will not invoke a warm welcoming_. The crazy viper is so temperamental I'm never completely sure which way to handle her, sometimes it's better to ignore her others to stand your ground. Opting for the former I don't even acknowledge the act and stride to the boat right next to it with an empty seat like that was my intention all long.

Giving Alexandria the satisfaction of reacting to her petty antics isn't on my to-do list. From my seat I can see Sebastian give me a pained expression, I just shrug at him. At least I don't have to deal with her, poor Sebastian though. This is where his whole 'nice-to-everyone' demeanor becomes a flaw; Alexandria has been pursuing him since 5th year with no success. And yet she won't give up with the incessant giggles and constantly having a reason to touch him. I personally find it hilarious; of course she does this because he's hot in his all American boy way but also because she thinks it makes me jealous. Ha! I snort just thinking about Sebastian and I being "romantically" involved. Yeah we're together quite often, and it's not abnormal to see us with arms linked or his arm over my shoulder and mine on his waist. But we are strictly platonic; I'm still convinced that he might have cooties. In fact it would be practically incestuous to be with him, we've always been like brother and sister. I think I can survive three minute ride to shore without him.

My boat group isn't too bad just quiet, Darren Walker is with me, the quietest Solartian you will meet, he's our residential monk or at least that's what we call him. Fey and Lacey are the more tolerable Tituba, not constantly leached to Alexandria's side waiting for her approval. And filling up the last space is Julian Saunders. The only thing I want to do is use my blonde hair as curtain between us, avoiding eye contact. But instead offer him a courteous smile, he's in Warren and also the only guy I've ever kissed.

Last year we were Advanced-Potions partners, so of course we spent a lot of time together. One day during a field work assignment, we were out scouring the island for woodworm and peppermint both ingredients for the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Julian is very sweet, smart, funny and also cute. I'd developed a crush on him throughout the year, admiring his sandy curls and soft brown eyes that always lit up when he thought of something particularly smart. And well we were out in the woods by ourselves. We reached for the same sprig of peppermint at the same time. The sun was dancing through the leaves lighting small glen we were in, and he looked like an elf prince. My poor deranged mind from all the muggle teeny bopper movies thought it was a "moment". It was dreadful, I fell forward as I went to kiss him smacking our faces literally together, gave him a bloody nose. We've been uncomfortable around each other ever since.

Feeling that I've done my social duty, I pull out the slip of paper with my host's information one last time as the boats are bumping up onto the lake. It still says the same thing as it did an hour ago when we were given them:

Rose Weasley, Gryffindor, 7th year.

With all the hustle and bustle of preparing to leave Nicodemus I hadn't gotten the chance to really observe it. Not that it makes a difference; I doubt I'm ever going to find Rose here in this flock. But the tiny image of her did show that she had on a gold and burgundy tie that must be Gryffindor's colors. Unlike us each individual house has its own colors along with a mascot, insignia, and founder. At Essex we all wear the school's color of a deep plum, much to the guys dislike, and can be identified by the house crest, on either are shirts, cardigan, or jacket. Depending on what you're wearing and we have the permanent tattoos that also help with any house confusion. I think my best bet is to just wait until we're inside for the Welcoming Feast and follow the mass of people wearing burgundy and gold. Yeah that should work.

Once the boats are on the shore we disembark leaving our luggage and pets in the boats, according to Headmistress Milton it will be put into our rooms for us. I don't really like the idea of leaving Narwhal behind, I just got him and would rather keep him with me but I guess they have their own area for owls. This is why you should never let yourself be consumed by your thoughts; I've already been left behind as my classmates blend into the rest of the group to wait for Durmstrang arrive. Looking around for anything familiar I see Sebastian and Michael standing with a group of unfamiliar guys, of course he would find his host right off the bat. Behind him I can make out two figures, one with dark hair the other with insanely light almost white. He's already amicably chatting with them like they're long lost brothers. He must sense that I'm looking at him because he glances in my direction and jerks his head at me to come over. His sudden stop in conversation has his peers staring in my direction, the abrupt scrutiny setting my cheeks ablaze to what most likely unattractive reddish color. Minutely shaking my head no I don't even wait to see his concerned frown. I fall back into the edges of the crowd to ease the feeling that I'm being overwhelmed and distract myself with the scenery.

From what I can see in the fading light, their grounds are gorgeous and made even more enchanting by the rapidly setting sun. The castle seems to be set in a low valley surrounded by daunting mountains that are further encrusted with thick green foliage that is similar to what we have at home and yet somehow not. It's a lot more green here than at Essex, not as much fiery orange and reds from the changing leaves. Probably because it's mostly evergreens this high up in elevation. I'll have to remember to ask someone about the flora here to get more specifics. It's kind of a hobby/bad habit of mine, whenever I get nervous I resort to categorizing the vegetation that I recognize and comparing it to our own. The Black Lake was quite a spectacle to see though. If I wasn't so sleep deprived, I would have been more worried about what I thought was a twenty foot tentacle drifting just beneath the surface, but I've learned to distrust my imagination.

Gazing across The Black Lake's glimmering opaque surface the sun dropping down upon it as if it was being consumed by its dark depths. Quite a morbid thought actually, what is wrong with my mind? Next thing you know I'll start writing dreary poetry and muttering about how misunderstood I am. I shake my head at my internal rambling; at least my nonsense is directed inward. It's only been a few minutes when something blips on the surface of the lake and comes raising up, I hope I'm not daydreaming about random aquatic creatures again. If that's the case I can only wish my subconscious is taking requests and will procure a sexy merman for me. The Disney kind, not the actual scaly I'm going to drown you and eat your soul kind. That is certainly not a merman, unless they recently adapted to looking like a huge galleon ship. Where just a few moments ago Nicodemus was is now Durmstrang's preferred form of transportation. It somehow possesses the same magic as the aspidochelone, that it can transport itself from one large body of water to the next despite the barriers that should prevent it from doing so. The ship proudly boasts the colors and flag of the institute, an elegant combination of blood red, emerald green and a deep bronze. The flag sporting an archaic depiction of a double headed eagle, they aren't one for humility. Then again we did arrive on a gigantic sea turtle with an island on his shell, so who am I to judge for showy displays.

Everyone seems to be collectively holding their breath for something to happen next, and we're not disappointed. A thunderous clatter sounds through the area when the gangway is dropped to the shore to allow the students and Headmaster off. Thirteen figures come marching down the gangway in perfect synchronization; it would be an impressive demonstration if it weren't for their fur hats and cloaks. It is only in the mid-forties, not exactly arctic temperatures their formal uniforms are kind of an over kill. There is a brief exchange between the three heads of schools, the Durmstrang students stand at attention in organized lines of 3x4 unlike the rest of us who are mingling about. Aside from their stance I can't make out much of them except that they are swathed in a deep blood red with their unfortunate accessories, and that the guys outnumber the girls. With pleasantries properly carried out everyone begins the trot to the castle.

Drifting to the edge of the procession I try to find someone I know so that I don't spend the walk in silence like some socially inept person, I have social skills…ish. But in the mass of all the people I've lost sight of Sebastian and the others. Silence is better than the torment of Alexandria, or the strange tension with Julian. Besides without a distraction I can simply zone out and admire more of the grounds.

It seems strange to not be confined by water, while the island is fairly large at five miles in circumference you still can't go very far until you reach its edges. In its own way Hogwarts has a similar feeling but with trees rather. You're either presented with the Black Lake or a sea of trees. The air is fresher here smelling of pines and the crisp scent of snow lingering from the mountain tops. And the grounds are so extensive it's almost overwhelming, the castle itself could do that but then there are all these other structures like the green houses or other miscellaneous buildings all outfitted with a labyrinth of courtyards. We're being led into yet another one when I hear someone clearing their throat beside me. _Please don't be a hot guy, please don't be a hot guy. _

"Hello Sawyer." I throw a wide grin at her, secretly glad that my mantra worked. Don't get me wrong I'm very appreciative of aesthetically pleasing males; I just struggle with making coherent sentences around them.

"Oh, hey Jocelyn." This I can handle. Jocelyn Arrow is a pretty reserved girl in Warren that is genuinely nice. She's one of those tall willowy people that exude natural grace, her long ebony hair, porcelain skin, and dewy sapphire eyes just add to her mournful ballerina appearance. Beyond her nice factor and that she's intelligent, I can't honestly say I know much else about her, despite that we've been at school together for six years. She just usually keeps to herself and when she's not doing that she's with other Warrens.

"Who were matched up with?"

"Erica Longbottom" She responds demurely. "A Gryffindor, 7th year."

"Yes! That means I'll know someone in the dorm, my babysitter is Gryffindor also." Her eyes widen just the slightest at my brashness but she quickly composes herself with a question. My talking sensor sometimes run out of batteries.

"Which one?"

"Rose Weasley, 7th year" Without realizing it we have already been ushered into the receiving chambers of the castle. This must be the entrance hall; it's huge and easily would fit a horde of elephants in it if the occasion ever arose that it needed to. The stone walls are warmly lit with torches aflame and the ceiling is impossibly high. Every few feet or so there are gleaming suits of armor in between the archways. Straight ahead of us is an impressive marble staircase that led to what I assume is the higher levels. However we were veering to the left to another set of large double oak doors.

"Sawyer you know who that is don't you?!" I'm not so sure I've ever seen her look so animated.

"The name seems a bit familiar, I just can't place it." Now I'm concerned, I don't have some crazy person who's the child of someone in Azkaban, do I? That would be just marvelous, the Misfit and Muggleborn. We sound like someone's idea of a comic book duo. Jocelyn opens her mouth to respond but is somehow scurried away from me as everyone funnels into the next room. There goes my comfort that I'll be near someone I know.

Well this is different. We've entered into what can only be the fabled Great Hall; there are four insanely long tables with benches on either side of them. At the very front is another table running horizontally unlike the other vertically positioned tables. As fascinating as tables are, what's incredible is the ceiling; it's enchanted to emulate the evening sky. I have to force myself to only briefly glance at it and instead follow the sea of burgundy and gold students to the middle table favoring the left side of the hall. Stalk the Gryffindors, check. Find the Gryffindor table, check. Sit with aforementioned Gryffindors, errmm. _Okay do or die Sawyer, time to man up_. Finding an empty spot in the midst of people who look like they're at least 6th years if not 7th years I figure that is my best lead to find this Rose person. I take a deep breath and stride as calmly as possible over there and plop right down, Confidence is key, or so they say.

"Sawyer Grayson?" I hear a feminine voice ask politely, it sounds weird with the lilt but still recognizable, my body instinctually reacts upon hearing my name and I look up to find the person the voice came from. Smack dab in front of me across the table is no other but Rose Weasley, now I don't have to ask people which one she is. Not to sound creepy or anything but the picture doesn't do her justice. She has gorgeous dark red locks that hang past her waist in a tangle of curls, a sweet heart face dusted with freckles, small mouth, pert nose and stunning amber eyes fringed by dark long lashes. Nope I don't feel intimidated at all, especially when I notice the badge on her cloak indicating that she's their Head Girl. I should probably respond in some form, so she doesn't think I'm deaf.

_Crap_. Cecilia was the naturally charismatic one, Emmaline was the flirtatious one, and I was the awkward turtle incarnate that would shuffle behind the two of them. This is precisely why I don't like meeting new people; I don't do well with small talk. During first impressions that tends to make you look like a stuck up word that rhymes with snitch. What would Sissy do?

"Hi there, I'm Sawyer Grayson" If I could smack myself in the forehead, for saying what she already knew, without looking lame I totally would. To cover up my spoken blunder I thrust my hand out to her in greeting. Underestimating the distance to her glass of pumpkin juice, it tumbles over teetering dangerously to the left and drops of liquid are already slipping out of it. My fingers twitch and the glass magically rights itself with the droplets receding back into it, as if it was a scene in a muggle movie and someone pressed rewind. Just awesome. I might have well said '_Hi I'm Sawyer, Essex's freak muggleborn pet with random wandless magic that they let wander around even though she should be restrained with a leash but I promise I don't have fleas. _Her face quirks up like she isn't sure what to do about me, well that makes two of us.

"Rose" She replies cautiously, taking my hand and shaking it briefly. Yippee we're off to a great start; I can just tell she is dying to become besties! This whole cordial politeness thing is unnerving, and we just kind of stare at each other. Carefully reaching for my pumpkin juice, I take a sip giving me a second to think. The only way this going to work is if I'm myself, this could get interesting.

"I'll just be honest with you, so we can fast forward through the next two minutes of tense silence as one of us comes up with something to say the other. I'm not the best person with small talk and first impressions because I am so socially awkward that it's practically a disease. But I promise once you get to know me I'm quite an awesome person." Verbal vomit happened right on cue; I put on my friendliest smile and pray that it doesn't look like a grimace.

X (Rose's Perspective) X

I can't help for the peal of laughter that escapes me at her second attempt of an introduction. "I'm sorry; I just haven't been around anyone that is so blunt." I tell her quickly so that she doesn't get offended. "It's quite refreshing." Dabbing at my eyes from the tears that leaked out at my laughter, this year will certainly be entertaining.

The fake smile slides off her features only to be replaced with another that actually reaches her hazel eyes. "What can I say, I aim to please." She sarcastically retorts in a playful manner, good she isn't a door mat to be walked over. Her words sound a bit wonky to my ears though in her American accent coming out faster and flatter in the vowels, odd. She isn't what I anticipated thank Merlin, more awkward but certainly less obnoxious, I figured the first words out of her mouth would be about my heritage. Maybe she's waiting to bombard me later?

I'd been searching for her ever since they arrived and I thought I had caught sight of her in the boats but she disappeared into the crowd. I was at a disadvantage that they didn't have separate house colours; everyone wore a deep shade of purple. The girls wore black satin skirts that came a few inches above the knee with a white blouse and oversized black bow tie paired with low black heels and a blazer the plum shade of their school. While the guys were given black trousers, blazer, white oxford, a purple and silver tie with matching cufflinks. I'd thought I would have to go from Essex student to student to figure out which one she was. Then to my surprise she sits down right in front of me, with Lysander Scamander to her left and Isabelle Thomas to her right. From her reaction it isn't that difficult to guess that she had no idea that it was me until I said her name, chiefly since she was looking down. The incident with the pumpkin juice is baffling, but I'm stowing that particular enigma away until I have the time to mull it over. I have a response in mind to her sarcasm when I hear a tinkling of glass directing our attention to the front.

"Welcome all to Hogwarts, we are gratified to be hosting the Triwizard Tournament and there is much to look forward to." Headmistress McGonagall begins after enhancing her voice with the Sonorous charm. "Before we begin the feast there a few matters to be addressed and people to be introduced. As you all should know each leader of the school is to be a judge. Highmaster Laneskvi of the Durmstrang Institute" At his introduction a tall older looking man with black hair slicked off his face with thick eyebrows, intricate goatee, and incredibly long nose having an altogether high-to-do appearance. The students noised their approval especially the Durmstrang ones. "And Headmistress Milton from the Essex Institute for the Magically Gifted." Her students respond exuberantly as the wizened lady rose to her feet, kindly waving to everyone. She's almost nondescriptive physically, not tall or short, wide or thin with long black hair streaked with silver. It's the way she carries herself that makes her stand out. In an eccentric fashion almost childlike, as if she knows a thrilling secret and hasn't decided to share it or not. Once the whistling and clapping has settled down McGonagall moves on. "Along with two other officials." Gesturing down to the end of the table at two figures I hadn't noticed "Firstly the Head of Department of Magical Games and Sports, Lee Jordan. A gracious thanks to him for organizing the festivities" The greeting isn't as warm as the other two but still passable as a fellow with a dark complexion and dreadlocks elegantly tied back stood up amiably acknowledging the students. "Further more welcome the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." Next to Mr. Jordan is another woman of similar age with curly brown hair pulled back into a professional bun extenuating her familiar delicate features. "Hermione Weasley". If the applause for Lee Jordan was anything was to judge by it was practically chirping crickets compared to the thunderous applause that happened for Mum. After finding out about the Triwizard Tournament I assumed that Mum would be involved, her position has always been present for these events. If it weren't for her dedication for protocol and perfection I would have been more upset that she hadn't told her children earlier about it. Everyone is enthusiastically clapping recognizing her as one of the "Golden Trio" that defeated the Dark Lord all those years ago. Except for Sawyer, she politely claps along with everyone else but it is no different than when she praised Jordan or Laneskvi. Huh?

"Yes, yes quiet please." McGonagall reigns in the excitement while trying to seem indifferent about her former students. "After tonight's feast the Goblet of Fire will be opened to allow submissions for potential champions. The age restrictions will be strictly enforced, and no one under age is to attempt it. You have been warned." Her hawk like eyes dart across the hall, anticipating any mutinous outbursts. Satisfied she continues on "It will remain open until tomorrow evening at the Hallowe'en feast. Consider carefully before applying, this tournament is sealed with a magical binding contract and there will be no withdrawing after being selected. With that being said, enjoy" At just a flourish of her hands platters and dishes appear laden with food accompanying the glasses and pitchers that had been filled with beverages.

"There you are!" Glancing past Lysander to his fit guest who is animatedly gesturing towards Sawyer. "I thought you had wandered off to find some mythological horned fungus and gotten lost." The mocking taunt comes from him easily as he gives her a large smile flashing two dimples. Switching my gaze back to her I notice her tense posture relax at seeing someone familiar, I'm going to have to guess they're on friendly terms. Lysander turns to see Sawyer at his side and I notice him taking in her figure appreciatively, he's such a tosser sometimes. She's a few inches shorter than me and more endowed in the feminine aspects, which is probably what is drawing his attention. With large deep green eyes rimmed with mascara and a round face, she comes across looking rather young and innocent. But her wavy blonde hair that resembles a light shade of honey flows past her shoulders and plump pink lips compliment her more womanly aspects, she's very pretty in a retro way. Like a glamorous teen beauty you would see in old movies.

"I appreciate your concern, I can tell you were consumed with worry by the way you're inhaling your food." She says pointedly looking down at his already full plate.

"What can I say; I'm a growing young boy." Sawyer snorts at this without replying instead looking back at the food before her. Following her lead I begin piling my plate with my favorites.

"I'm Lysander, Sebastian's host." She doesn't make the same mistake twice of offering her hand and instead nods politely.

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise, I'm surprised he didn't introduce me to his girlfriend sooner." Lysander thinks he's so clever slipping in the term to figure out whether she's available or not. I try not to laugh watching his antics. He's a great guy and I love Aunt Luna and her family, but he's the biggest flirt I know. Second only to cousin James. But his comment was poorly timed as she begins to choke on her pumpkin juice.

Recovering quickly she wipes her mouth with a napkin "I'd like to meet her too; it's the first I've heard about it." Deviously looking past Lysander to her friend, "Did you finally trick a girl into putting up with you; Lysander seems to think you have a girlfriend." She says this good humoredly while comically waggling her eyebrows. "Or did you finally accept Alexandria's advances?"

"No I'm still waiting for the love potion to finish brewing." He answers nonchalantly without missing a beat. I've decided I like them and their easy banter. The crest on their blazers indicated that they are both Solartia although I already knew Sawyer was. Unlike most people they aren't trying to overcompensate with humor or wit, and oddly enough Sawyer's earlier awkward behavior was actually endearing, but I can tell she has an underlying spunk by the way she responds to Sebastian.

We all laugh along with this and introductions commence in our general area, Isabelle, Erica who next to her is another of the Essex students who will be staying in our dorm, a quiet girl who seems nice enough if not a bit aloof. Then Tyler, Max and Liam further down the table. Gryffindor seems to be hosting majority of the Solartia students and I mention this to Sawyer and it seems to remind her of something.

"Sebastian where is Michael, I thought I saw you together when we first got off the boats." She inquires puzzled about something.

"Yeah he's paired with someone in Slytherin," jerking his thumb gesturing to their table. "I was just helping him be introduced and trying to discover out where this guy was. Seemed liked the smarter way to find him rather than searching around for him like a magical Waldo." At this her cheeks take on a rosy tone at her method of finding me or the lack of one.

I follow their gaze to a gangly boy with light brown hair, towering between Albus and Scorpius. That must be the Michael they're referring to.

"The dark haired one is his host, Albus." He says pointing him out to her, shrugging his massive shoulders. "Seemed like a good guy to me."

"Oh Merlin, I hope he doesn't cause too much trouble." She groans wearily.

"That's not likely being paired with Al." I reply to her trying to lighten the blow with a smile. "Scorpius might be able to tame one mischief maker but two, I doubt even his skills." Sawyer pales at this notion. As if they can tell we're talking about them, all three turn around to meet our gazes. At this Sebastian offers the typical guy nod while Sawyer waves shyly at them. They both smirk at her and Albus gives a slow wink. She quickly turns back around red colouring her previously white cheeks.

"Awesome." She squeaks out, pushing her empty plate away from her. "Okay now I'm wiped and have a food baby." Snickering when she pushes out her stomach and pretends to rub it fondly. Right on cue we hear another tinkling of glass.

"I trust that you have had a pleasurable evening but it is now time to conclude this night. For our visiting students you will find your belongings in your host's dorm as well as your sleeping arrangement. Good evening and good night." Without further a due McGonagall waves her hands dismissing the empty plates and dishes to the kitchens bellow for the house elves to take care of, thanks to Mum and her supporters they now receive wages as well as holidays.

"Sebastian." Sawyer starts out solemnly "On a scale of one to ten, how likely are you to carry me to the Gryffindor dorm." She implores keenly, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Hmmm" He strokes his chin as if he's actually considering it. "A strong two." If he knew how many flights up the Gryffindor tower is his answer would have been in the negatives.

"You can be so unreasonable." She fake pouts jutting out her lower lip in a sulky manner.

"Alright you bunch of ninnies, off we go." I say before Lysander can offer to carry her instead, not that he actually would but he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to be a tease. Standing up I catch my Mum's eye and she smiles at me and waves heading in our direction. Great here goes the normalcy that had been happening; I knew it was too good to last. They probably weren't sure which Weasley descendent that I was, there are a lot of the clan.

"Rose, I've missed you so, Dad sends his love" she rushes out wrapping me up in her embrace.

"I've missed you too Mum, tell Dad I return the sentiment." I cheekily grin at my overly formal admission.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friends," she chides lovingly, of course she already knows everyone else.

Holding in my groan I turn back around and gesture to a now standing Sawyer and Sebastian. "This is Sawyer Grayson, I'm her host." She smiles prettily and offers her hand as they exchange pleasantries, but she doesn't seem to act any differently than she had a few moments at meeting the famous Hermione Weasley (nee Granger). "And this is Sebastian Quinn, he's Lysander's guest and also from Essex"

"It's an honor to meet you Mrs. Weasley." His reaction is more of what I expected, his eyes widen but he hastily controls his reaction.

"Thank you, it's lovely to meet you as well." If I know Mum she's already picking out her grandchildren's names, she likes to play matchmaker. After greeting my other friends and hugging Lysander and Erica she dashes off to see Hugo at the Ravenclaw table. Well it might have been worse. Heading off to the Gryffindor tower we began the long track up the stairs in the great hall. As we do so I tell them about the odds and ends, our quarters are on the seventh floor, watch out for the stairs they move, this classroom is here, that office is there etc.

"I am going to have fantastic calf muscles after a year of climbing these monsters every day." Poor girl, I hope their uniforms don't require high heels every day. I go a few more steps when I notice Sawyer is no longer at my side but a few steps down bending over. "Ah that's much better" She sighs out as she stands back up with her shoes in her hands rather than on her feet. Resuming the climb like it was nothing.

"Sawyer you are such a hick!" Sebastian groans at her. "We just got here and you're already barefoot, couldn't you at least wait a week before declaring how uncivilized you are." They really do rib at each other like siblings, I can't believe Lysander ever thought they were dating.

"I'll have you know I'm wearing hose, and they cover my feet." She retorts sticking her tongue out. Sebastian scoffs at this rolling his eyes "Oh bite me."

"That's your area, not mine." He taunts at her teasingly. "Fair warning to everyone else," including the rest of the group. "Sawyer takes the Solartia mascot a little too seriously and has the tendency of biting her friends." She sputters trying to the think of something in defense, but folds her arms saucily in silence her cheeks blushing again. That seems to happen to her a lot.

"Some might be inclined to bite back." Lysander quips with a smirk. She misses the comment, but Sebastian doesn't and I see him threateningly glare at the response. Lysander raises his hands up in an innocent gesture laughing at him. "I'm just joshing mate, don't get your knickers in a twist."

Before he can respond though we reach the 7th floor, I turn around to address them "This is the Fat Lady, she guards the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. We always have a password but it will change every so often but you'll always be informed of it." They both nod in understanding. "The password is currently 'discombobulate' try not to forget it because you'll be locked out until someone who does know it comes by." When I turn around the portrait has already swung open revealing the passage.

We've all ducked through the entry and are congregating in the common room, letting the guests adjust to it. Sawyer blows her blonde bangs out of her face "Home sweet home."

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**A/N So what did you think? Feel free to harass me with reviews, or follow the story, or favorite it which ever suits your fancy. And just in case you're curious I have links to what I imagine their formal uniforms look like on my profile (the have casual ones as well, I wouldn't actually torture the female populace into wearing high heels all the time). Toodles! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: We are on the precipice of finding out who will be the lucky (or unlucky depending on how you look at it) champions selected from each school for the Triwizard Tournament, are you excited?! If not than there is just no pleasing you, and just pretend you are for my sanity's sake. Much thanks to those who left reviews, I really appreciate it. One of them mentioned how the dialogue could be challenging to follow, I will certainly try my best to fix that :)! **

**DISCLAIMER: Still do not own Harry Potter and all of the others that tag along with him. But I hope you enjoy all the same!**

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I'm usually not much of a morning person, actually I hate them. I would love to say that I'm one of those people who wake up all chipper and eager with rainbows shining out their orifices, but I'm not. I'm notorious for being difficult to wake up from my slumber. Cecilia has had my bed bewitched to turn into ice every weekday morning at promptly 7 a.m. since 2nd year and no spell has yet to break it. Luckily once I have some coffee in me I'm back to normal. There's a warning sign on my forehead that clearly states: INSERT COFFEE THEN PRESS PLAY.

After we trekked the mountain of stairs to the Gryffindor common room last night, I was surprised I made it up even more Merlin forsaken stairs before I calmly melted into a little Sawyer puddle. Whoever designed our formal uniforms and thought it would be nice to make the females wear high heels should be ripped to tiny little pieces, fed to a tebo, and once they have come back out as fecal matter reassembled to their previous form having to deal with that horror. Did I mention I don't like mornings?

And yet here I am staring up into the rich plum fabric of the canopy, contemplating the world and all of its mysteries that it throws at us. Okay I'm not that deep, but I am considering what to have for breakfast. Besides a flagon of the sweet life elixir known as coffee. What if they don't have coffee?! I mean this is the United Kingdom and not to make stereotypes but what if they only have tea, that would be nonsense. I love a nice cup of Earl Gray with milk and honey but that will not get me into my usual perky albeit sarcastic demeanor. Without coffee I'm all biting sarcasm with no perk. I blame turtle lag that has to be why I'm up this early. My sleeping schedule is all whacked out from the time difference.

Soft breathing drifts through the closed curtains hanging around my bed with an occasional snore to break the monotony. The good news is that I was so ungodly exhausted last night that I didn't dream at all. My dreams consist of two sides of the spectrum they are either extremely complex and could easily have me committed to an asylum, or I don't remember them at all. One moment I'm asleep the next I'm awake, the hours slipped by with nothing to show for it.

Since I'm up I might as well get a head start on the day, at least this way I'm guaranteed to get a nice hot shower. I nearly moan at the thought, while we were on Nicodemus it wasn't the most civilized hygienic arrangements. There was a tiny lagoon that we all took turns attempting to bathe in and as many times as I used the _absque salinus_ charm the water still was tainted with salt. And salty showers do not make for a clean Sawyer, although it did do wonders for my wavy hair.

Parting the thick draperies as delicately as I can I slide out of bed, gently landing on the chilly flagstone flooring. My feet make soft padding noises across the ground as I kneel in front of my suitcase with my belongings in it. I wish I would have gotten the memo about everyone else using trunks so you have more surface space for knick knacks and what not, but I'll live. Besides I have a few plans in mind that involve Spello-tape and my favorite memorabilia. I grab my toiletries and my casual uniform from its endless depths. Even though it is the weekend and we usually go uniform free, Milton requested that we at least wear our regular uniform for the feast tonight. Something about looking like a united front when the champion is announced, she can be a bit crazy. But I like our regular uniform; they're a lot less restricting. For the girls we simply have to wear a black cotton or wool skirt (depending on the season), the required white button down shirt that has a slender black bow tied around the neck, and some form of black shoes. I tend to wear mine with flat black leather lace up boots that come just a few inches past my ankles, black knee socks and my purple cardigan with the Solartia crest. If I'm feeling particularly hipster I'll opt for my matching hair bow and nerd glasses rather than contacts.

With the necessary items in hand I creep to the door on the left side of the round room that leads to the bathrooms. The restroom is downright luxurious compared to the lagoon, but I think you could have handed me a water hose and I still would have been pleased. It has a common theme of three centering around it. Three oak doors lead into separate shower stalls along with a little changing station, three porcelain toilets, and three sinks with mirrors hanging above. I don't care if the majestic power of three is what heats the water, as long as it gets the job done. Choosing the last shower stall, I turn the nob mostly to the right to allow a heated flow to pour out of it. Stripping out of my pajamas I set them on the bench with the clothes I'll be changing into and my Pokémon towel draped over it. I've had the ratty thing since I was seven and I refuse to be parted with it regardless that it's so faded now Pikachu looks albino. Em was the only one in the dorm who actually recognized it; she's held a fascination for muggle culture as long as she could remember. Hopping into the now steaming shower I let the water scorching water cascade down my body, soothing my tense muscles. I find myself wishing that electronics worked here, when I'm at home over breaks I always shower with my favorite music playing. If I could carry a tune I would sing to myself, but I might get mistaken for a squealing mandrake and that would be tragic. Feeling thoroughly relaxed and rinsed of any lingering sea salt I begin the methodical routine of bathing. The cozy scent of honeysuckle and dark amber permeates the air as I use my favorite body wash, Cecilia restocked it for me as a birthday gift over the summer. With my fingers sufficiently pruned I figure it's no longer appropriate for me to keep hogging the amenities, the other girls must be getting up by now. Trying to retain as much of the heat from showering as possibly I quickly dry off and tug on my clothes.

When I exit the stall I resume my grooming at the sinks, brush my teeth, and attempt to convince my hair into doing something reasonable. I desperately envy the girls who either have curly or straight hair, at least theirs is consistent. One day mine will be nice and pretty waves that actually look intentional, another day a frizzy mess that a bird might take up for new residency. I haven't figured out yet what to sacrifice to the hair gods to have them smile upon me. It seems to want to be wavy today though so I leave it be. I'm about to start on my makeup when another girl enters the bathroom, her name's Anastasia I think. One of the students from Durmstrang, she grunts to me in passing as a greeting. Yeah that was me pre-shower, I know the feeling. Applying eyeliner and a few coats of mascara I head out of the bathroom, I'm almost ready to face humanity. Now I just need coffee.

Now that I'm not a zombie I get the chance to actually observe the dorm. It's a nice circular room with four-poster beds lining the walls, five of them are decked out in red and gold belonging to the Gryffindor girls. To make us feel more comfortable the made our beds swathed in the deep purple of Essex. While the girl from Durmstrang's bed is in a deep blood red that it's almost brown with bronze edging. Each bed has a nightstand next to it for personal items. Despite the stone walls the room is still comfortable with the tapestries and large window seats. In the very center is an old fashioned covered metal fireplace, radiating warmth into the room. Taking note of the living occupants of the room I notice that Majority of the girls are up now, either still lounging in bed or getting stuff ready for the day. But everyone is at least awake, meaning I no longer have to tiptoe around like a secret spy. Sad, no barrel-rolls for me. I stroll back over to suitcase putting away my things, and make my bed to kill time. I wouldn't say I'm a neat freak but I know that if you don't keep a girl's dorm tidy it can easily look like a tornado attacked it. To deter the artic tundra seeping into the bottoms of my feet I pull on my knee high black socks, I'm in the middle of tying my beloved black boots when I hear someone clear their throat above me.

"Good morning Rose." I muster up as much cheer as possible in that simple greeting. She's already up and ready for the morning, with her pristine uniforms and robes on. A determined look graces her features as she stares down at me.

"Hullo Sawyer, how are you doing this lovely morning?" Oh sweet Merlin no, she's a morning person.

"Fairly decent actually." There that sounds like something a normal witch would say. She quirks one auburn eyebrow at me, just barely holding in her smirk. Okay so she knows I'm lying. "I'll have more human like qualities though once I have ingested some coffee." She laughs at my admission and reaches her hand out to me to help me off the bed.

"I figured as much, you look a tad peaky." She doesn't, her curly mass of red hair is pulled partially up into sophisticated style. Lucky girl, I probably still look like an undead creature of the night.

"I have found that it is my duty to counterbalance the cheer of morning people." Sticking my tongue out at her I grab my wand from my night stand.

"Yes I'm sure you honorably carry this burden without complaint." Although she easily returns my sarcasm something seems to be bugging her, but I don't know her very well so it's hard to say if I'm right or not.

"That I do."

"Shall we go to breakfast then, I'm ready if you are?"

"Just a sec, I need to do something real quick." Dashing to the end of my bed I grab my backpack digging through until I find a quill and a scrap of parchment. After I've written my name and school clearly on the paper I straighten back up addressing her. "Alright I'm good." Waving the item cluing her into what I was doing. Then neatly fold it placing it into the small pocket of my skirt. I shrug on my cardigan as we head out the door and down the spiral stairs to the common room. The warm circular room is empty of any other students, we must be some of the only few dressed for the day. I rather like their common room; it's more archaic than ours and sports similar tapestries on the walls like in the dorm, a large fire place on wall is surrounded by plush burgundy chairs and couches. There are also a few tables and chairs scattered throughout the room for studying. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say a lot of my time will be spent here.

Once we've reached the portrait it swings open without prompting, I can't help for the depressing groan that slips out of me when I see the bane of my existence, those fricken stairs again. "I feel sorry for the architect of Hogwarts and their lack of imagination." Rose takes an indignant breath ready to defend her castle's honor when I continue you on. "They missed a great opportunity of having a curving staircase, so we can slide down the bannister. It could have been epic."

"Yes I suppose they did." The retort is halfhearted as she still seems off. "Sawyer I need to ask you something," Oh no here it comes. "in regards to last night." Of course she must be bursting at the seams to figure out just how I'm capable of doing unintentional magic, it's not that uncommon for underage witches or wizards to perform it when overly emotional, especially before coming into magical education. But I should have grown out of it by now, with few exceptions of extreme bouts of anger or panic where it happens subconsciously.

"Hmmm" I try to respond noncommittally, preparing myself for the onslaught of her telling me that she can't be my host because I'm a freak of nature muggleborn who needs to be in remedial classes.

"You're reaction to my Mum was rather odd." Ermm what? That's not where I thought this was going. I halt on mid step to turn and ogle her; she's upset with how I treated her mother? I was polite and cordial what more does she want from me. Prodded on by my silence she continues. "Well you see, most people are a bit awestruck by meeting her." She's kidding, right? Just because she's the head of some fancy department doesn't mean I'm going to worship the ground she walks on. I thought I was pushing my luck with having a host I genuinely liked, only to find out she's some arrogant twit who wants me to be impressed by her parents. This must be what Jocelyn was talking about when she freaked out at finding out who my host was.

"I have dealt with too much crap at Essex just because I'm different; I didn't come here to be bullied around by some brat who wants to me to treat her like she's special just because her Mommy is some official." The stream of heated words come out like a torrent of anger, that I can't stop once it's started. "If you were looking for some idiotic American to faun over you like some celebrity, you are barking up the wrong tree." At this point I'm panting at my rant, and my fingers are tingling with a current of power begging to be let out. Rose looks like I've slapped her across the face, serves her right trying to belittle me.

"That's not what I meant, Sawyer!" She tries faltering over her words. "I'm thankful that you aren't acting like some twit, I just don't understand it." I can see her anger spiking as she gets frustrated. "So pardon me for being curious and trying to bleeding understand you!" She huffs and crosses her arms across chest.

"What's there to understand?!"

"I'm trying to thank you! I'm so fed up of the pressure of being the spitting image of Hermione Granger, maintaining a perfect exterior of being the child of two of the three '_Golden Trio'_." She sneers this last part, why does that strike such a familiar cord? "And it was a relief that you weren't hounding me about my parents or uncle, and were not placing me on some ridiculous pedestal!" At this point I'm insanely happy that we're the only ones out this early, otherwise we would have made a terrible scene.

"What are you even talking about, what does your uncle have to do with anything?" My previous anger has transformed itself into the slippery sensation of confusion.

"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger." She ticks them off on her hand, each of the names settling into my stomach like heavy stones. "They defeated the tyranny that was Lord Voldemort during the war?" Oh.

"Rose I didn't-" I start but she cuts me off still raging.

"What you didn't know? You're a witch aren't you?!" She throws the question in my face not open for excuses. Proceeding down the stairs, not even bothering to see if I follow.

"No I didn't. I'm not like everyone else at Essex. I didn't grow up hearing all the valiant stories of your family. I'm a muggleborn, that's why I didn't recognize it." Rose stops where she stands but doesn't turn around. "What I know I've only read and learned in class." I weakly trail off shrugging my shoulders. When did my life become some overly dramatic muggle TV show?

"Essex doesn't admit muggleborns, I researched."

"That was true, until six years ago. I'm the first and only one." I state dully. "Your information must be out dated." The tense silence carries on as this admission sinks in; I had hoped that my blood status wouldn't come up. Of course things have changed since the end of the Second Wizarding War, but it didn't have the affect the states as much as the United Kingdom, it was watered down. I'm sure if it had ended in Voldemort's favored it would have been a horse of a different color. "I'm sorry I flipped out on you, I know what it's like dealing with the pressure of your heritage."

"Me too, I can be a complete bitch sometimes." Rose amends finally turning back around to me, a sheepish grin on her face.

"Okay." Clearing my throat I stroll up to stance on the stairs and boldly link arms with her. "Now that we have the mandatory cliché dramatic fight out of the way. Let's go get some breakfast; I am hankering for some coffee." What is it about a spat, that makes you bond even more once you've gotten over it? As a girl I have full authority to say that our gender as a whole is crazy and makes no sense.

We're still tittering like little first years when we reach the Great Hall, there's only a few people scattered throughout the tables enjoying an early breakfast, all the sane ones are still snuggled up in bed like I should be. My mouth is watering at the smell of all the food, hmmmm bacon. Being the only people here from Gryffindor we have plenty of options of where to sit. We decide on a spot towards the end of the table favoring the teachers side, there's an excellent view of the Goblet of Fire should anyone choose to put their name in now. The Goblet itself isn't physically impressive, an ancient stone cup on steroids placed on an even heavier podium. However it's the blue and white flames that are truly captivating, dancing just over the rim of the cup. I'm itching to put my name in there but I want to wait for Sebastian.

Down the table is a strange metal hoister thing for the toast, carefully grabbing two slices I pile them with bacon and scrambled eggs making a delicious sandwich. Glancing across the table I see Rose looking at my concoction as if it's the strangest thing she's ever seen.

"Don't judge me." I then proceed to take an extra big bite for barbaric effect of the yummy goodness.

"Oh Rosie Posie." A male voice singsongs through the room, echoing off the cavernous ceilings. She rolls her amber eyes at this, but her smile betrays her irritated expression. I'm still engorging myself on food when a few people join us at the table. "How is my favorite cousin doing this fine morning?" Snagging a piece of bacon from her.

"Just splendidly, it would be better if someone wasn't pilfering off my plate." He makes an affronted sound when she smacks his hand away from reaching for more. The strange boy clears his throat and tilts his head in my direction. "Oh yes, Sawyer this is my dreadful cousin Albus Potter and his best mate Scorpius Malfoy." She waves a hand dismissively to them both.

Of course this introduction would occur right when my mouth is completely stuffed with food, I shoot Rose a dirty look and see the wicked glint in her eye, evil witch. I find the boys staring at me expectantly just barely suppressing matching smirks. Just fantastic, not only are my cheeks puffed out but I can feel that they're blushing also.

"Hello." I strangle out from around the mountain of food occupying my mouth, gulping down some pumpkin juice to clear my throat. "Sorry about that. I was showing Rose my impersonation of a deranged chipmunk." If I already look like a fool, might as well get a laugh out of it. I recognize them as the guys that Sebastian was talking to when we first got here.

"It was quite convincing." the dark one says, Albus I think? He's Michael's host and the boy who winked roguishly at me last night at dinner. He has unkempt jet black hair; almond shaped startling green eyes that are emphasized by the emerald of his robes, and a thin face and lips that seem to be twisted into a permanent grin. Now that I know who his father is I can see that the resemblance is striking from the pictures I've seen in text books and papers, minus the glasses and scar obviously. I still can't believe I had forgotten the most prominent event in Wizarding history, and the celebrated people who saved it.

Although Albus is handsome it's his friend that catches my eye, he's more atypical as far as looks go. He's taller than him by a few inches, closer to 6'2 but less broad in the shoulders. Lean without coming across as lanky, he's built more like a chaser or a seeker while Albus seems to have more of a beater's physique. He has the lightest shade of blonde hair ruffled into a carefree look, almost a white color. This combined with his grayish silver eyes and a natural porcelain complexion, he seems lacking in pigment. Save for his dark thick eyebrows and even darker long eyelashes that most of my gender would kill for. He has a rather pointed face with sharp cheeks and a straight nose that seems odd in comparison to his full mouth that's tilted into a crooked half smile.

"It's a pleasure." Scorpius answers courteously. I nod dumbly at him, having lost all my communication skills and common decency. I think I managed a smile though, cursed aesthetically pleasing male.

Forcefully dragging my gaze from him I look over to my right to find Michael sitting next to me. I was so distracted by the strangers that I didn't even notice him there, way to be blonde Sawyer. But this I can handle. "What up bruh?" putting on my best surfer accent.

"Not much man, just chillin'" he drawls in an exaggerated tone, it's kind of an ongoing joke. Hailing from California, he has your stereotypical good looks, with golden brown shaggy hair partially covering his long face, sea green eyes, bright white smile, and a perpetual tan on his tall gangly body. As one of Em's previous conquest, she was convinced that his crooked nose from being broken so many times made him look more rugged. Being Sebastian's best friend I know him pretty well, he's equal parts laid-back and conniving. You'll find him either relaxing in the common room or plotting some devious prank with Jason, which is why I aim to be on his good side.

"Oh and this is my guest, Aksel Petrov." Scorpius adds pointing to Michael's other neighbor, almost like it's an afterthought. Even though he's introducing Aksel, I can tell his eyes still haven't left my face. Dear baby Emrys, I probably have bacon on my face or something equally embarrassing. "He's from Durmstrang." Like the name didn't give it away.

"G_oo_d morning." He stresses the o's in good, making it sound like it's spelled with a u. "I apologize my English is lacking."

"It's okay I can barely speak it myself." Putting on a big grin, from his quiet greeting it isn't hard to gather that he's shy. I hear Michael snorting next to me at my lame attempt at humor.

"You should see her pre-coffee; it's like trying to have a conversation with a diricawl." They all laugh at my expense and nursing my cup of coffee to play up the act, I find that the gimmick worked. Aksel is laughing along with the rest of them. By this point more people are trickling into the Great Hall for breakfast and the topic quickly switches to the Tournament.

"Rose do vou intend on entering vour name?" Aksel focuses on her attentively; she blushes prettily at the tall Russian's scrutiny.

"No it would be distracting from my studies. And there are N.E.W.T.s to take into consideration." Everyone groans at the reminder with the exception of Aksel who just nods understandingly. I'm sitting there just watching the conversation, enjoying my third cup of coffee when I feel someone ruffling the top of my hair.

"What the-"

"Good morning all." The bench rattles as Sebastian sits down, smiling cheerfully.

"I'm not a dog." I inform him haughtily, trying to get my hair back into order.

"Ugh, why did no one inform me that this tosspot was an early bird?" Lysander grumbles as he slumps onto the bench automatically laying his head on the table.

"You are preaching to the choir, I've been trying to find a cure to his awful disease for years." Taking another sip of the addicting substance. "I find that duct tape is the only solution. Or a nice little silencing spell does the trick." I grin cheekily up at his glower, he should know better than to mess with my hair. It infuriates the beast living in it, anything I coaxed it into doing this morning will poof out.

"Ha ha, you're so hilarious Sawyer. Practically a comedian"

"What can I say, I was born with brains, beauty, and humor." I shrug it off nonchalantly

"Are you ready to potentially put yourself in life threatening situations all for a 33.3% chance of eternal glory?" Sebastian rattles off, nudging me with his shoulder.

"Abso-fricken-lutely, I was waiting for you to get down here until I put it in." I see some of the guys waggle their eyebrows at my poor word choice, and my cheeks turn ten different shades of red. "Ermm that didn't come out right."

"Not even a little bit love." Scorpius comments, his lips tilted into a seductive smirk. Holy hopping hippogriffs he is attractive with his aristocratic features, odd and yet alluring silver eyes.

"Ouch" Yelping at the sudden jab just below my ribs. Sebastian clears his throat giving me a concerned look.

"I was saying we should probably get this out of the way then. Before you chicken out." Tilting his head towards the large cup.

"Be right back." I say knocking the table and try to slide out as gracefully as possible. The benches and uniform skirts don't exactly get along; you pretty much have to be a ninja to accomplish it without flashing at least one person. Most people are in in the room by now; I had preferred to do this with less of a crowd but refused to go without Sebastian. This way if I trip, I can blame it on him.

I can tell he wants to ask me about my little space cadet act back there with Scorpius but is waiting for me to bring it up. He's going to be waiting for a while. There's a small gathering of younger students who've opted for standing around to watch the events rather than sitting at the tables. I offer them a shaky smile in greeting as we approach the circle of the age line.

"Ladies first." Reaching into the pocket of my skirt I pull out the scrap of parchment that I scribbled out my information on earlier, I glance up at Sebastian uncertainly. Doubt creeps through my mind with slithering fingers, trying to convince me that I'm a joke. I'm not good enough; the goblet will spit my name back out rejecting me. Not even worth the time to take me into consideration as a champion. "You can do this Sawyer." He says this easily without thought confidence coating his words that I can't help but believe the affirmation, squeezing my shoulder briefly for further support.

Without a second thought I stride forward, and drop the slip into the white-blue flames licking up my wrist in icy waves. Retracting my arm I release I sigh of relief that nothing too strange happened afterwards. Polite clapping comes from the spectators as I turn around, but I can hear catcalling and whistling coming from the group I was just eating with, that was unexpected. So was the sudden wolfy howl that Sebastian lets out, I grin foolishly when I hear other Solartians join him unashamedly.

High-fiving him as I rejoin the others outside the circle, Sebastian takes his turn to enter his name. Out of everyone from Essex, I really hope he gets it. He's the most capable and deserving to be given an opportunity like this. I chuckle at the fist pump he gives after placing his name in the goblet; I let him gather me into a bear hug as he lifts me off my feet and swings me around. Not capable of containing my enthusiasm being caught up in the adrenaline I emit an uncannily accurate howl just as they did for me. Everyone not from Essex must be rather confused about this ritual we're starting but I couldn't care less. For once my social anxiety isn't bothering me; I'm not worried that everyone is gaping. We might have our flaws as a house, but no one can deny that we are unfailingly supportive and loyal.

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**A/N: Okay so I'm a big tease, you didn't actually find out who the champions are. But I promise I had fully intended on having it happen in this chapter, I just wasn't satisfied with the flow of it when it was included and just figured it best to wait until the next chapter to do so. The good news is that that scene is almost completely written so it will be put up sooner rather than later. Also it may or may not be told from Scorpius's POV ;) you'll just have to put up with my shenanigans and see. WAHAHAHAHAHAHA, okay that's it darlings I bid you good day. And if you feel so inclined to review/follow/favorite I will not complain, but the choice is yours, toodles!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Woop woop chapter 5! It's been quite an adventure writing this so far, any semblance of a social life that I did have has died since I started. I REGRET NOTHING! So erm yeah I wish you nothing but luck in reading this next segment. **

**And to some of my angelic reviewers**

**and-then-they-died: Officially the best review ever, I laughed so hard I cried. I'm not sure why I found it so hilarious but I did, thank you. **

**welcome2michaeland: Yes I absolutely and unashamedly did, I was trying to think of more unique slang terms to use than just Merlin and that one popped out. Glad you caught that :D. **

**Guest: So I just reread the beginning of Chapter 4 and you're right it is slow, merp. My brain is an anarchist and we don't always get along and at the time I thought what I had written was good. I apologize for the meaningless drivel and will try to work on my ranting :) ( like I did just there, oops)**

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X Scorpius's Perspective X

Well this day has been interesting, if you're keeping it in simple man's terms. The visiting students are somewhat of an enigma, or at least the Americans are. They're rather entertaining if not a tad annoying from time to time, fairly exuberant. In a way they remind me of small hyper children, constantly jabbering on about something or another. As good as they are for a laugh I'm quite glad that I was paired up with Aksel. He's more my type of bloke, not much for words, observing instead of participating. However that might have more to do with the language barrier. From what I've gathered most of the Durmstrang lot keep to themselves and their own. They almost have this military feel to them, rather distant and uninterested with co-mingling. Right good luck with that, won't last long with the pairings. Besides they're stuck with us for the better part of a year.

The day was spent leisurely in the Great Hall, watching various students place their names in the Goblet. Debating which ones were actually capable, and others that did didn't stand chance. We ended up with a hotchpotch group of students with us. Because it was only mandatory to eat with your actual house during dinner we joined Rose at the Gryffindor table. Prior to the Second Wizarding War you never would have heard of such a thing, a snake in the lion's den? Preposterous! The only way that would happen is if they had some nasty trick up their sleeve or were being manipulated by the Imperius curse.

House rivalry had always been around, but it was more enhanced between the Gryffindors and Slytherin. I'd heard horror stories from my father about the unnecessary hatred between them that he ashamedly was a large instigator of. Cruel words were tossed around like 'mudblood' and 'blood-traitors', I shudder just at the thought of them. My father has been a changed man since the war. Less cold, more tolerating of others, the emotional boundaries that he had been molding since childhood taken down brick by stubborn brick. When every day it was drilled into your mind that you were better because of your blood line and social standing, what else would you expect? Or at least that's what Mum tells me, I wouldn't know personally. The Draco Malfoy I knew patiently taught me how to fly on my first broom, beamed with pride when I first received my Hogwarts letter, and will gloat to anyone who will listen about my esteemed marks in class. He's not the only aspect that changed after the war; the rivalry was slowly diminishing between Slytherin and Gryffindor, while many still maintained the superiority complex of a pure-blood that didn't mean they were for genocide and slavery. And those who did where sent to Azkaban. In result of this inter-house unity became the solid foundation that Hogwarts was rebuilt on.

Of course some prejudice still lingered as I dealt first hand upon entry at the school. Having inherited many of my Father's physical traits it wasn't difficult to assess my ancestry; I received more than a few snide remarks about my Father and Grandfather. 'Death Eater' was scathingly whispered as I walked up to the Sorting Hat. Biting retorts where on just the tip of my tongue in defense but then I remembered they had most likely lost someone in the war and vicious retaliation wouldn't resolve anything. I wasn't nervous when the decrepit hat was placed on my head, I would be glad to be put into any house really. Of course my parents would prefer Slytherin, but they weren't so biased anymore. _Hmmmm you are unexpected, more kind and generous than your father. Loyalty is important to you, a sharp mind, not short of courage either, but there's a drive there as well. You would be suited for any house, where to go? _I remember suggesting not Gryffindor, I wasn't opposed to them. But greatness is expected from there, I'd rather prove Slytherin's worth and resurrect our poor reputation into a house to be proud of. _You're not the first student to urge me in another direction, but I'm curious how this will unfold. If you're sure. SLYTHERIN_. Smiling at my triumphant sorting, I confidently walked to the applauding table, taking a seat next to another first year girl who oddly resembled a pug.

The hall was teeming with anticipation when Albus Potter was called to be sorted. The Hat took his time deliberating before bellowing out Slytherin much to everyone's awe. I was the only one at the table who proceeded to clap for him. The rest were still gaping in shock, their mouths flapping open and closed like unhinged fish. A dazed Albus plopped down next to me, assuming I was the only friendly face. I did the only thing I could think of, introduced myself shook his hand and smiled like a juvenile fool. Then jumped to the next topic I thought any boy could relate to, and complained about how unfair it was that we had to wait until next year to join the Quidditch team. We've been best mates ever since.

That's what really tipped the scales to end the prejudice, how bad could Slytherin be if the famous Potter's favorite son was sorted into it. If a Malfoy and a Potter could be friends and overcome past grudges, what was preventing everyone else from doing so? Imagine my father's shock when the first letter I owled to him was how I sorted into Slytherin along with Albus Potter and we had become close. I waited a while for that response. But Albus and my Dad became cordial to each other over the years as we spent time at another's house over the holidays. As for the rest of Hogwarts it took a bit adjusting to, but the Slytherins warmed up to the charismatic boy with unkempt hair. And with a family as large as his it would have been quite the challenge to alienate or bully him. The only thing we ever get into a row about now is chess.

After placing my name in I was able to beat Albus in a few matches of wizard's chess much to his dismay. His moves are just too predictable. Then lost my pride to Lysander in the next game, he's not as loony as his mother apparently was in school but still a bit off-kilter. But that does nothing to prevent him from being a wicked chess player, and if anything adds to it. I can't help but laugh at Rose's guest though; she's an intriguing character who can't seem to decide on sarcasm or awkwardness. At one point she flipped over the board whilst playing Lysander and loudly declared 'THE HAND OF MERLIN MOVES', he didn't seem too disturbed by it. I'd be willing to wager he's keen on her, then again Lysander fancies any female within reasonable perimeters. Not that I can blame him, she's appealing in an innocent way that hints at you tantalizingly with her shapely figure. She has this spark about her that is curious, it entices you to try and unravel her secrets amongst other things.

Now was the moment everyone was waiting for. Over the past six years I'd seen the glorious splendor of the Hallowe'en feast, large pumpkins carved into jack-o-lanterns and bewitched into telling jokes, live bats released into the hall for an added spooky flair, and the food is always delectable. But I doubt anyone actually tasted their food this year, oversized lollipops discarded, candy apples half eaten. More than a few students scarfed down their dinner, hardly sparing a moment to chew; hoping that it would speed up the process of the Goblet of Fire. Not surprisingly Al was one of them; this is a normal habit for him though. He inherited the infamous Weasley appetite; I was quite horrified the first time we ate together. It was like watching a starving hyena during a feeding frenzy. He'd been shooting glares at me during the entire meal for taking the time to cut my food; I just knew it wouldn't make a damn difference. McGonagall would begin when she was good and ready.

"Scorpius, I really hope you're chosen." The sentiment being purred from the neighbor on my left, I take note of her long chestnut hair that caresses temptingly at her small waist. That's a great word for Alexandria, tempting. She's the very image of a temptress, sultry olive toned eyes, wide pouty lips, defined cheekbones, all legs and a figure that would make an hourglass weep. The male populace had been mentally undressing her since she stepped off the boat last night. Not that there really anything left to undress, she doesn't seem to put much stock into the notion 'left to the imagination'. Wearing a uniform that is intentionally a size smaller, not to mention the skirt that seems to be a few inches shorter than the other girls. Either she's teeming with confidence or too insecure in other aspects and overcompensating with her body.

"Yes I'm sure it will go to the most capable and deserving." She's been vying for my attention since the feast last night. I'm a hot blooded teenage bloke, so of course I was receptive at first. But dear Merlin does she ever stop, what originally was enticing is surely becoming maddening.

"Aww I didn't know you felt that way about me Scorp." Albus comments clutching at his robes where his heart is. "I'll be sure to mention you in my speech after I've won the Triwizard Tournament." He rattles off smugly, the unfortunate thing is I can't tell whether he's joking or not.

"Either one of you would make a marvelous champion. " Is her voice always this husky, or are we just special? "It's a shame you can't have two at a time."

"Quite the pity." Shrugging off her hand that was grazing my forearm, sweet Circe could she be any more transparent? Hasn't she ever heard of playing hard to get?

Turning to Albus to plead for his help, but he's left our conversation and has his neck craned to the front of the hall. Everyone seems to be copying this motion, impatient expression on each face, fidgeting and checking to see if McGonagall was finished with her plate yet. After much anticipation, the golden plates revert back to their former clean state; and there's a sudden increase in chatter. This ceases almost instantly as McGonagall rises to her feet. Capturing the undivided attention of every one present, even the easily distracted first years. On each side of her, Highmaster Laneskvi and Headmistress Milton wear apprehensive and eager, mirroring the students' expressions. Lee Jordan is grinning away happy to back at his alma mater in an authoritative position. Mrs. Weasley, Rose's mother, just seems as curious as the rest of us.

The cavernous room is so dense with silence you could hear a bowtruckle sneeze. "Now, when I announce the champion's names, if you would please make your way to the top of the Hall, walk past the staff table, and enter through those doors into the next chamber" She motions to the door located just to the left behind their table. "That is where you will be receiving your first directives as the official champions."

Pulling her wand out of the depths of her ebony cloak she gives a grand flourish, a rush of darkness envelopes the room as all the candles are extinguished, save for those inside the jack-o-lanterns. This emphasizes the eerie radiance emanating from the Goblet of Fire, what previously was only a flicker is now at a dull roar spiraling with ribbons of blue and white flame. Everyone is entranced by the display, epitomizing the analogy like a moth to the flame.

A collective gasp ricochets off the stone walls when the blazes inside the goblet abruptly turn a vibrant scarlet, releasing a shower of sparks. Preluding only to the tongue of flame that leaps into the air, a smoking piece of parchment fluttering from it, once more changing back to blue. Effortlessly reaching up to snag the fragment McGonagall readjusts her spectacles examining the parchment.

"The champion for Durmstrang," She reads in an unwavering and pure voice, "will be Lukas Zmetsna." A surprisingly short male rises from the Ravenclaw table, confidently striding forward acknowledging the applause with a stern nod of his head. Firmly grasping McGonagall's hand he then disappears into the next room.

The clapping and talking dies down again as everyone's attention is reverted back to the goblet. Which just mere moments later has transitioned back to the red color, a second bit of parchment shot out from it, propelled by the inferno. With Durmstrang already announced that only leaves Essex and Hogwarts' champion to be declared. One down two to go.

"Representing Essex as their champion," Next to me I can feel Alexandria shuffling about, preparing herself to be called. "Sawyer Grayson."

"What?!" I hear a shrill voice shrieking in my ear, but I seem to be the only one to hear her as tremendous howling erupts sporadically across the room. Swiveling around to the Gryffindor table I can see Rose speaking rapidly to the blonde American, she looks like she's trying to convince her that her name was actually called. Stumbling as she gets up from the push Rose gave to prod her along. Next to me Albus is letting out a loud whistle sounding his appreciation, just barely heard over Michael's continuous howling. I'd be more concerned with their wolf impersonation if I hadn't witnessed them doing it earlier as each of the Solartians submitted their name. Once she reaches the dais McGonagall briefly shakes her hand in congratulations urging her to the room Lukas will be in. From my perch I notice that Sawyer's rosy cheeks could compete with the red flames of the goblet, she's blushing so profusely. Her headmistress gives her covert thumbs up and a wink in encouragement. There must be more to her than just sarcasm and a pretty face for an unbiased judge to have selected her from all the other candidates. For her sake I hope none of the tasks involve chess.

When Sawyer has also disappeared into the side chamber and McGonagall finally coerced the Essex students to cease their celebrating, silence fell again. I had never considered silence to be a tangible element until now. The Hogwarts champion would be next…

A peculiar wave of a calm washes over me as the Goblet of Fire turns red for the final time, sparks raining down surrounding yet another shoot of flame arching high into the air. Seizing the final piece of scrap of parchment she brings it closer making it more identifiable.

"Lastly, the Hogwarts champion." She calls out loudly. "is Scorpius Malfoy."

No Slytherin was left sitting as they all catapulted to his or her feet, shouting, stamping, clapping, whistling, anything to make a cacophony of noise in my honor. I'm hauled to my feet by an enthusiastic Albus, he's grinning so widely it looks like his face could split in half.

"I'm glad it was you mate." Hollering over the noise, I push through the surrealism of everything treading towards the front of the hall. I'm moderately surprised to find more than just Slytherins at their feet, Rose and quite a few more Gryffindors are doing so as well as the Essex students there. Happiness beams through me at the unexpected gesture.

"Well done, Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall commends me warmly, taking my hand in a firm shake. "Through the door if you please."

As I pass by the teachers several of them smile, or nod encouragingly. Professor Higgs looks like he's stifling the urge to get up and hug me; he's the Head of Slytherin and the alchemy professor. Although I do hate the 'teacher's pet' card, I can honestly say that I'm his favorite. Now at the heavy wooden door, I stop just for a moment. This could change everything. Grasping the bronze handle of the door I pull it open, walking into my next adventure

X Sawyer's Perspective X

_Breathe Sawyer, just breathe._ I still keep pinching myself to wake up and find that I'm still asleep in the Gryffindor dorms, snuggled under the warm plum colored blankets. Prying my eyes up again I find that I'm still in the same small room as I was before. All the walls are lined with countless paintings of various witches and wizards, save for one that has a large fire roaring just in front of me. Where the Durmstrang champion is standing completely straight, arms crossed tastefully behind his back, executing perfect posture. My back hurts just looking at him stand like that, don't these people ever relax? Aksel seems to be the only normal one, but how relative is normalcy when you attend a school for witches and wizards?

Moving the last few feet to the fireplace I clear my throat to get his attention since his back is too me. The dim lighting of the fire throws shadows across his face, giving it a gaunt appearance. He makes quite an impressive figure being silhouetted against the flames, but not as tall as I previously thought he was at the most being 5'10 with a stocky build. Caterpillar eyebrows and a hooked nose aren't in his favor and are only emphasized by the close buzz cut that someone must have tortured him into doing.

"Hi, I'm Sawyer Grayson." He takes my hand into his meaty one. "Essex's champion." Tacking that on as an afterthought, automatically regretting my words wishing I could shove them back in my mouth. Of course he knows I'm the American student I have on the uniform, and I don't exactly sound British. I guess we can add stupidity to the list of identifiers now.

"Lukas Zmetsna." His voice is deep and gruff, like someone took sandpaper to his vocal cords. I'm really tempted to say 'bless you' upon hearing his name, but it's unlikely he'll appreciate my joke. He returns back to his original position, choosing to keep to himself. Oh thank Merlin Lukas is the strong and silent type; I despise small talk with a fiery passion.

There's another quiet moment just outside the door, and then a sudden uproar of applause but the voice was too muffled for us to make out the final champion. In a way I really hope its Lysander who's selected, because it would be nice to be competing against someone I know, and at the same time not. It's rather conflicting because he's familiar and I like him well enough, but how would I feel defeating someone I like. I have no intention of taking it easy on whoever my competitors may be. And I'd hate to destroy a friendship that's barely even started.

So caught up in my internal drivel I don't notice the door reopening or someone coming down the small set of stairs leading down to the dank room.

"Hey Blondie." Sweet Merlin I recognize that velvet baritone voice, I swear it's only appealing because of my fascination with British accents and has nothing to do with attractive man-child that it belongs to.

"You're one to talk." I shift in his direction, scoffing at him. "You don't hear me calling you vanilla."

"I know I'm sweet love." Scorpius replies turning my words on me. "You don't have to remind me." Ending the statement with a wink, gahh he can be so infuriating. And what is with everyone adding 'l_ove_' to every fricken sentence, you don't know me let alone love me. I suppress the urge to frivolously stamp my foot in frustration. Oh dear Hecate what am I turning into? I'm saved from having to answer my own pathetic question when the door creaks opens and the Judges come trotting through, McGonagall at the lead. She's very stern looking and I stand up straight under her scrutiny. My nose really itches but I'm afraid to make any sudden movements.

They've all lined up in a semi-circle in front of us, McGonagall, Milton, Highmaster Laneskvi, Lee Jordan, and Rose's Mom. I blush furiously remembering my earlier blunder about her parents; I pray I didn't offend Mrs. Weasley by my nonchalant behavior last night when I was introduced to her. Now that I'm really looking at her I notice she's pretty for her age with curling brown hair pulled partially back and sharp mocha eyes, I can see where Rose gets her delicate features from. But her coloring and height must the Weasley gene.

"Congratulations to each of you, you have been deemed the best of your school as champions to partake in the Triwizard Tournament." Mrs. Weasley starts addressing each one of us, being sure to make eye contact. I swear this constant use of the word 'champion' really has me wanting to start humming '_We Are the Champions_', but I'm going to go out on a limb here and say it would be inappropriate. Em would have done it. "The first task has been designed to test your resourcefulness and aptitude. Due to the circumstances you will not be informed of details prior to it. Dexterity for an unanticipated event is key to this upcoming task, and an imperative quality to possess as a witch or wizard." This information is delivered matter-of-factly without embellishment.

"The first task will occur later next month on the twenty-fourth. It will be conducted in front of the other students and our panel of judges." Gesturing to the people to her left.

"You must know that you are on your own from this point on." She stresses this point. "As champions you are not allowed to request or receive assistance from any teacher in order to complete the tas. How exactly does she think we can ask for help for a task, that we don't even know what will be happening? Must have been a problem in the past." Once the first task is completed you will be given more information in regards to the second task." Mrs. Weasley turns her gaze on Jordan, looking for his input on the matter.

He looks like a giddy school boy as he eyes each of us mischievously "If you're going to fail the tasks at least make it entertaining for the rest of us, yeah?"

"Yes, thank you Mr. Jordan. That's quite enough." McGonagall curtly cuts him off giving him a piercing glare, nostrils flaring with anger. I wouldn't like to be in his shoes and endure her wrath. Not one to beat around the bush, she simply dismisses us and bids us goodnight. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding, and veer to left to Rose's Mom. As much as I don't want to I feel like it's only right to speak with her, cue the awkward turtle. But I'm intercepted by Headmistress Milton as she links her arm through mine and gently pats my hand leading me up the stairs.

"Miss Grayson I'm so elated to have a Solartian representing Essex as our champion, especially one as talented as yourself." I blush at her praise, thankful that the Great Hall is empty now. I didn't want to push my luck of not tripping in front of the large crowd again. I was surprised when I only slightly staggered earlier, but that was because Rose found it necessary to push me. "I had a hard time not howling with the other students when you were selected" I laugh at her as she whispers this conspiratorially like we're surrounded by masses of people.

"That would have been quite a sight to see Headmistress." She nods along agreeably. "I just hope I can do you and the school proud." I admit sheepishly. Try as I might to put on a good mask of bravado and as much as I wish that I was just this ball of confidence bouncing with self-assurance, I'm not. I have my flaws and doubts just like everyone else, if not more so.

I stumble briefly as Milton jerks us to a sudden halt at the Entrance Hall, who knew the old wolf could be so forceful? "Sawyer I will not sugar coat this for you, I regard you more highly than that." I go to thank her but she cuts me off, continuing on. "This will not be some walk in the park; nothing about it will be easy. It will be trying, it will be difficult, and it will certainly be the most challenging year of your young life so far." Her dark eyes staring into my own with conviction, I try my best not to blink. "But the Goblet would not have chosen you if it did not have evidence that you are up for the task, and the most adept of all of our students. It believes it as do I." She blinks her owlish eyes a few times as if waking from something before smiling at me once more. Overwhelmed by her glowing confidence in me I deftly wrap the woman up in a hug. She doesn't even hesitate as she embraces me like a grandma would. Detaching my limbs from her she straightens her robes out from the encounter.

"Now hurry along to your dorm, I'm sure your friends are waiting to celebrate with you. And it would be cruel to divest them of such an occasion to be unruly and lively young adults. But do try and remember that tomorrow is Monday and you still have class even if you are the champion."

Waving at her merrily I turn to around to conquer my first trial, those Merlin forsaken stairs.

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**A/N: BAM there you have it ladies and gents. I had something really profound that I wanted to say in this note but I must have been attacked by wrackspurts because I've forgotten it now. Until next time, stay classy. Ta ta for now! **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Pretty pretty please do not sacrifice me up to the fanfic gods for being so incredibly late with this chapter. I have a whole list of reasons why but I doubt you want to here my petty excuses. Better late than never right (hopefully)? Well here it is the next chapter :) do enjoy. Lots of dialogue in this one, sorry if that's not your cup of tea.  
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**Thank you to those who deemed me worthy of reviews much obliged it always puts a pep in my proverbial step when I start writing. **

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How time can be both fast and slow is riddle I'm still trying to figure out. This past week seems to have blurred by and yet dripped past at a snail's pace. I suppose it's because I'm both excited for the task that' looming up closer and closer but still dreading the possible interview today. Scorpius and I received notes yesterday in the Alchemy class we share informing us of the events occurring today. Needless to say there are other ways I'd rather spend my time, like taking a swim with the Giant Squid.

Hogwarts is treating me well so far, I'm taking the same classes as I was back at Essex just with different classmates and teachers. I wasn't really sure what to expect from the professors here, whether they would be better or worse than those at Essex but I was surprised that I liked all my classes. Unfortunately there are still a few faculty members back home that still begrudge my blood status, like my Charms instructor. She's always treated me more harshly than others, but rumor has it that she's one of the direct descendants of one of the witches who were executed. But I've found that here they don't seem to care at all, for the most part.

After a week of classes I've already decided that they wouldn't be hindering my N.E.W.T. scores at the end of the year. If anything a new perspective would help it. I mean how awesome is it that I'm learning Defense Against the Dark Arts from the previous Head of the Auror office, Robard? Or that my Care for my Magical Creatures class is being taught by a half giant, he reminds me more of teddy bear than a grizzly bear though.

They're all great I have to admit that Herbology with Professor Longbottom is my absolute favorite. Professor Reily was good, but he wasn't as invested as the topic as the professor here is. I've never seen a teacher be so enamored with a subject. He seems to be able to take any dull plant and make it fascinating with the way he describes it, how it can affect its habitat, and what it is commonly used for. He'll get so wrapped up about what he's talking about that he won't even notice that he's still with students. It's one of the few classes that I don't share with Rose or Sebastian. Luckily Isabelle Thomas is in it always making remarks here are there about some student that I have to quickly cough to cover my laughter. Aside from Rose she's one of my favorite people in the dorm.

In fact that's I'm wedged in between her and Sebastian at breakfast on Saturday morning as we chatter about the upcoming events when there is a sudden clattering of plates and a cloud of feathers in front of me.

"Thank you Narwhal I thought this letter was lacking in syrup." Picking up the now partially sticky letter, I absentmindedly spare a bit of bacon to Narwhal who just valiantly crashed into my stack of pancakes. Poor twittering owl. He fondly nips at my fingers and is off again. Wiping off the letter as well as I can with a napkin, I give up flipping it over to open. I immediately recognize the familiar scrawl that is on the front; forgoing all social niceties I release a squeal as I tear into it with barbaric fervor.

"Cecilia," I hear Sebastian deadpan when I don't answer anyone's questioning stares. "Her sister back at Essex."

"I wasn't aware she had a sister." Rose inquires pausing from the tome she's reading across from me.

"Oh she doesn't, but don't try telling them that."

Ignoring them I finish unfolding the letter, and begin to read it, eating up the words with greedy delight.

_Dearest Sissy,_

_Oh sweet Merlin's baggy Y-fronts (Em's words not mine), CONGRATULATIONS! We knew you had it in you (actually Em won quite a fair share of galleons betting on your likelihood). Don't let all the success go to your head though, I'd hate for you to come back here and have to deflate your bulbous ego after you've won! I wish I could have seen the look on Alexandria's face when you were picked! I would have taken a picture of it to look at whenever I was feeling down. Em wants to know if you tripped on the way up to claim your victorious title, I already smacked her for you, don't worry. Do write back with all the scandalous details of the male population there, we feel deprived that your letter didn't mention anything of it, selfish. Things are going just fine here; we won the first match against Warren! Em has moved on to yet another conquest, Logan Conners! I'm just as surprised as you are, and we are missing you like a narwhal misses its unicorn counterparts._

_All our loce, Cecilia and Emmaline._

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen someone hug a letter." Oops I didn't realize I was doing such a thing.

"Well Albus I don't think you've ever seen me punch you in the face either." I find that violence is a great deflection tactic.

"Someone's feisty this morning." He remarks not even batting an eye at my vicious behavior.

"At least she's stopped sucking her thumb." Of course Scorpius has to throw in his opinion on everything. Oddly enough I actually like the two Slytherins and enjoy it when they join us for meals. He and Albus informed me that it is tradition for them to eat with the Gryffindors every Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday morning. Which is alright most of the time, as long as they don't speak too much. But something about them gets under my skin, particularly Scorpius. I just can't help but banter with them. I'm about to kindly explain that there was syrup on my thumb and if he would prefer me to gouge his eye out with it instead when Isabelle intercedes.

"Don't mind her, she's just nervous about the weighing of wands ceremony this afternoon." Waving off my surliness. Over the past week I'd gotten quite close to the girls in my dorm as well as most of Rose's family and friends, majority of them overlap each category. Half of the school is related to her one way or another, that's not even including her fictive kin. Leave it to Isabelle to be blunt, she's still my friend regardless of how willing she is to throw me under the proverbial bus.

"What's so stressful about having your wand weighed?"

"You can weigh my wand, just for practice sakes of course" Lysander has this disturbing ability to turn anything into a perverted innuendo; it's like his super power. I don't even bother with a reply, rolling my eyes at him. I've found it only encourages him to continue.

"It's not the ceremony you dolt. I'd imagine it's the interview with the _Daily Prophet_ afterwards." Rose clarifies flicking her cousin in the ear.

"Ouch." Rubbing the offended lobe. "Scorpius has to do it too and I don't see him getting his wand in a knot over it." As if on cue, Scorpius expertly moves his features into a dashing smile that could easily be on any front page of a newspaper. Great he's going to be all photogenic and I'll confuse the readers. 'Since when are concussed trolls allowed to participate in the Triwizard Tournament?' It could be worse. At least I don't suffer from the caterpillar eyebrows like Lukas, poor guy.

"Well Scorpius can be pleasant with no problem." I start to blush as I realize that sounded like a complement. "I'll be lucky if my words sound remotely human."

"Maybe they'll find your awkwardness endearing, like a quirky charm." Looking just past Albus I see his younger sister Lily smiling demurely at me. I rather like Lily; she's a sweet Hufflepuff in 5th year. She's like a little doll with her gently curling red hair and large brown doe eyes, I just want to pick her up and gush about the fabulous tea party we're going to have. I've only been around her a few times, and I've yet to hear her say anything that was even borderline mean. Unlike her older brother, who I've often considered pushing off the Astronomy Tower.

"Thanks Lily, but I highly doubt it." She seems undeterred by my negativity and keeps beaming away like a ray of sunshine; I want to keep her as a pet.

"Just try to refrain from biting anyone." Michael adds helpfully, _not_. Turning to Sebastian for support he just shrugs, traitor.

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Consider yourself lucky that Rita Skeeter retired." Albus stresses pointing his spoon at me "She'd tear you to shreds."

"Mum says she's a wretched old hag that wouldn't know the truth if you rubbed her nose in it. I doubt McGonagall would let her on the grounds though" Despite her words, Rose says this matter-of-factly like she was reading the ingredients for a potion.

"You're not going dressed like that are you?" Isabelle asks wrinkling her nose at my appearance.

"What, you don't like how I look?" Feigning innocence, apparently my skinny jeans, favorite hoodie, and glasses just aren't doing it for her.

"You look like you just rolled out of bed."

"I did just roll out of bed." Laughing at her blatant honesty. "No, in the note Milton requested that I wear our formal uniform. Heels and all." She specifically mentioned that one, she knows me too well. At this comment the guys quickly duck out to start their own, they have too much testosterone to discuss wardrobe.

"What time did you say this was happening?" Rose pries checking her watch.

"Noon."

"You are aware that it's almost eleven, yes?"

"Nope, and on that note I have a train to catch and the tide and time wait for no man!" Snatching another piece of toast and gulping down the rest of my coffee, I slide out of the bench and sprint out of the Great Hall. Just a little over an hour to get primped and prepared for an interview and photos that countless wizards and witches will see? No problem.

XXX

When writing the note for me Headmistress Milton must have been aiming for ambiguity, because that's exactly what I got. I mean how many empty classrooms does can one castle have? And just on one floor? It's like for every one door I jerk open, three more classrooms appear. They should be known as the Hogwarts Hydra.

"Blondie I think you're looking for this one." In my distress I didn't notice the slim figure leaning against the stone wall a few doors down. Scorpius seemed to have straightened up since breakfast, with his pristine robes and properly groomed features. His hair his artfully tousled, that practically begs you to run your fingers through it. I hate him, its official.

"I knew where it was" Liar. "Just checking out the castle is all."

"Yes because most blokes water-closet are simply riveting." Pointedly looking at the door I'm grasping about to yank open. Trying to ignore the heat climbing up my cheeks I drop the handle and stride over to where he's standing. Searching for some reasonable retort to my near humiliation, I'm kept from having to do so by the sudden arrival of Lukas. Being a man of few words he curtly nods and reverts back to his military stance glaring at the door we're all facing. As if they sense we've all arrived, it swings open seemingly by itself.

We find ourselves in a surprisingly small classroom, I was expecting more extensive accommodations for a ceremony that sounds so grand but what do I know. Majority of the desks are shoved to the back of the room allowing for the large space in the middle. Three of them are still out though making an impromptu long table cloaked in a dark velvet material with the blackboard serving as a back drop. Five of the nicest chairs are behind the table each occupied by four of the judges. Perched at the end of the table is a witch I don't recognize decked out in a stark white pantsuit.

"There they are, this generations finest!" Jordan announces proudly, clapping his hands reminding me of an excited little boy. With a twirl of his wand three of the unused chairs from the back slide forward, assuming they are for us I sit as gracefully as possible. At this declaration the newcomer abruptly stands and pivots so that she is now facing us, and strides forward shaking each of our hands in turn in introduction.

"Chloe Havisham, journalist of the _Daily Prophet._" Up close I can see beyond her blinding outfit, combined with her ebony stick straight hair, heavily drawn in eyebrows, and blood red lip it makes for a dramatic affect. Let's just say if I had a Dalmatian puppy I would hide it from this middle aged lady. She seems about ready to pounce on us with questions but is quickly dismissed with a stern look from McGonagall sending her to the corner. She proceeds to whip out a notebook and acid green quill, assessing us greedily.

"Allow me to introduce the conductor of this ceremony, Gavin Ollivander." My attention is directed to an older man who appears to be in about his late fifties. His wisps of greying hair are stuck up in every direction and kind blue eyes make him endearing. And yet still stern with a tweed jacket and frayed bow tie he looks like an eccentric librarian who's both gentle and strict. "He will be verifying that your wands are in satisfactory condition before the tournament." McGonagall clarifies as Ollivander steps into the middle of the room right in front of us.

"Miss Grayson, ladies first." I was afraid of that. Coming to my feet I move the short distance to where he is standing, offering my wand to him. I try not to flinch when a great flash goes off as he grasps it, a small little man darts around the area capturing pictures from several different angles. With nothing to do with my hands I awkwardly fidget with the satin hem of my skirt as he mulls my wand over, walking the tips of his fingers along its edges.

"Ah I can tell this isn't a Cobbler product, much too fine for his work." He comments after a long pause. Tom Cobbler is an American wandmaker, but he perfected the mass production of wands. While effective they're inferior to handmade wands, lacking in finesse.

"No Sir, I went to Smithson's." I respond kindly, glancing over at Headmistress Milton catching a wink from her. Just six years ago she was the one who showed up at my doorstep and changed my life. She also took me to get my supplies, including my wand, I still remember her firmly insisting that I get only the best and not some '_travesty of a Cobbler wand'_. According to her I'd be better grabbing any old twig and spitting on it. So she took me to Smithson's instead. That was the first time I ever encountered side-along apparition. One moment I was blinking into the Midwest sun the next I found myself in San Francisco, China Town. Just past one of the little stores, through a decadent tea room you part beaded curtains and you'll find yourself in Whimsic District. It's where most American witches and wizards go for their magical needs.

Lost in my thoughts I'm dragged back to the moment at hand when I hear Ollivander start to mutter to himself. His pale eyes widen considerably as something has just occurred to him and he looks up addressing the room. "Siren fin if I'm not mistaken, very rare, very powerful." News to me, I nod my response. I haven't done a lot of research on wandlore and didn't realize how unique my core is. Of course I knew sirens are the oldest race of merpeople and due to their warm habitat of Greece are more beautiful than their cold water family, selkies and Merrows. "Too volatile for my tastes, but if you can successfully master it is unfailingly loyal. You'd have to travel quite a ways to obtain such a thing… Not to mention how difficult it would be to convince one of the beasts to spare one, rather vain and possessive. . . As for the wood source, Willow." He makes a contemplative noise like the substance reveals something of my character; I squirm under his piercing gaze. "Ten and three quarter inches. . . unyielding."

"_Pluvito_." He twirls the wand sharply in his hand releasing a peel of silver mist that smells faintly of the sea at this new development peers at it closely. "It seems to be in fine shape" Ollivander hands the wand back to me, smiling warmly. Assuming that means I'm done, I return back to my seat. That wasn't so hard.

"Next can I have the Durmstrang student, Mr. Zmetsna." The epitome of brooding skulks towards him and with a slight bow offers his gnarled looking wand, clasping his hands behind his back. Do they eat swords for breakfast to maintain such impeccable posture? Ollivander evaluates the wand for any damage.

"Hmmmm." He peers curiously up at the Durmstrang. "Rather peculiar this strangely resembles a Gregorovitch product."

"Vell it vas originally my Vather's. It is one ov Gregorovitch's." I stare dumbfound at Lukas, shocked that this is the most I've heard him say. A prideful smile breaking through his otherwise stoic demeanor, now if he laughs I might just keel over. His gaze never strays from Ollivander, not to dart nervously around the room or for support from Laneskvi.

"Just splendid, I haven't seen one of these in years. Quite a beauty, although they weren't Father's cup of tea." Overcome with zeal at the authenticity of the wand, he rambles on. "Yes Fir wood. . . carapace of manticore, nasty article to acquire. I don't envy the poor witch or wizard who had to do it." Laughing at his own humor. "Precisely ten inches long and rather swishy."

"_Evoco_" With a quick flourish of the wand a beam of light in the deepest shade of orange is emitted curling into the air. "Yes it will do quite nicely." Lukas bows once more after receiving and shuffles back to his seat next to me. In the corner I can see Chloe's quill moving by its own accord, scrawling across the page furiously.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you please." After smirking at me in way that says '_watch this'_ he elegantly strolls to him and smiles for the picture he knows is coming, so unfair. "Scorpius it has been quite a while my boy. I hope your wand has been treating you well?" Of course they're the best of pals, he seems to have that effect on most people.

"Positively so, Mr. Ollivander" Scorpius answers politely nodding his head. Offering the wand to the wizened old man, he seems more enthusiastic to be handling one of his own creations.

"Good, good." Muttering once again as he keenly observes it. "A spectacular wand this one, if I do say so myself one of the first ones I made with the hair of a centaur. Tricky experiment but well worth it in the end. . . more powerful than unicorn hair in my experience. . . Firenze was willing enough to spare a few for the occasion. . . eleven and one third inches. . . laurel. . . and pleasantly supple."

"_Volaticus." _The incantation releases a stream of dragonflies out of the end of the wand, "It's in perfect condition." Satisfied he offers the wand back to Scorpius allowing him to return to his seat next to mine.

"Thank you all for your cooperation." McGonagall announces rising to her feet at the judge's table. "Seeing as how it is Saturday, there are no classes for you to return to." Thank Merlin for small miracles. "However be sure to use this free time wisely in preparation for your tasks, being the champion is no excuse to shirk off your responsibilities as a student either." Or not, I do have a two foot alchemy paper due Monday. We all nod in an understanding and begin heading to the door.

"Minerva if we could have some photos of the champions and judges that would be just lovely." I try my best not to groan my disapproval, I don't like pictures. The constant smiling begins to hurt after a while, I can only maintain looking perky for so long.

"Yes alright." McGonagall seems to share my opinion of them. The journalist prowls around us like a hyena circling a carcass as the photographer keeps rearranging us into different positions. One altogether, then just the judges, then just the heads of the schools. Next can we have the champions with their headmistress or highmaster. After that was the shot of the champions.

"Sweetheart could you try to not look like you just swallowed a dung beetle." The saccharine comment coming from Chloe as she nudges me closer to Scorpius with her long red fingernails. I hear him smothering the laugh at hearing the remark, and I repress the urge to stamp his foot. Headmistress Milton would not approve. I nearly growl at the insufferable journalist when she does this once more, what does she want me in his lap?! Bristling at this grin and bear, the sooner they get the picture the sooner I can leave. Being this close to him I can't help but breathe in the luring scent of campfire, leather and something else I can't seem to place. Curiosity beckons me to drift closer and figure it out but I'm shaken from my reprieve as the photographer starts calling out for individuals. Thankfully these fly by and we're finally dismissed.

Ignoring my natural instinct of fleeing from the limelight I hesitate and approach the notorious wand maker. "I just wanted to thank you for your time Mr. Ollivander." For once my awkwardness isn't predominate. He beams at me in appreciation; I get the feeling people often take him for granted.

"It was a pleasure my dear. Always fascinating to see what other wand makers are up to." He responds kindly shaking my hand in earnest. "Especially one as unique as yours, a rather odd combination siren fin and willow." I'm about to ask him why but he continues on. "I often find that a wand can reveal more about its owner than they even could after a long conversation. A person can lie, the wand will not." Puzzled by this he fondly pats my hand and wanders away. Well that was weird. Making my way to the door I feel someone grasp my shoulder from behind pivoting around I find myself being stopped by _Daily Prophet _reporter.

"Sawyer, can I call you Sawyer?" She prattles on without my approval "I would simply adore a quick little smidgen of an interview with you." I'm at a loss of words not sure which is the best way to express that I would rather swallow the dung beetle she joked about earlier than spend alone time with her. "Our readers are dying to know more about this little slice of American pie." Mustering up my worst impersonation of a southern accent prepared to be the most cliché American possible when someone clears their throat behind me.

"I hate to steal her away from you Ms. Havisham but Sawyer and I have a previous engagement we must attend to with a few fellow students." Scorpius sidles up to my side, I never thought I would be so relieved to see him. He drapes his arm over my shoulder in a careless manner, Havisham seems like she's about to implode with glee at this development.

"No of course darlings." Smiling like the cat who got the canary. "I have all I need now."

"Terribly sorry." He urges once more, navigating us towards the exit his arm never leaving its position on my shoulder. Once we're out of the classroom and the door is securely shut behind us he removes his arm and grins devilishly down at me. Normally I'd be pretty irked that he opted to be my knight in shining armor, but considering the circumstances I'm quite happy he saved me from a tedious interview. To me the entire situation is hilarious and I find myself laughing hysterically.

"Previous engagement." I wheeze out in between snorts. "What type of teenager talks like that?"

"Hey it worked didn't it?" He poses indignantly, but I can tell he's trying not to laugh as well.

"That was the biggest pile of hippogriff dung I've ever heard." Taking a few deep breaths to sober up, looking at him seriously. "But really thank you, an interview was the last thing I wanted to do."

"Just performing like a proper gentleman when there's a damsel in distress." He retorts giving a taunting bow. Who knew Scorpius could actually be a decent person? We've finally reached the stairs and I move to go upwards back to Gryffindor.

"Well as much fun as this has been, I'm dying to get out of this uniform." Gesturing to my attire and demonic heels.

"Now Sawyer that teasingly sounds like an invitation." My cheeks stain red as I realize how that could be misinterpreted. "Do you need assistance with such a task, because I would be more than willing." Waggling his dark eyebrows at me suggestively, without thinking I swat him on the back of the head.

"Don't be such a perv Scorpius." I scoff haughtily. "Just when I was beginning to like you." Muttering to myself as I walk away, I can still him snickering as I reach the portrait.

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**A/N: So I took a bit of liberty with the wands and what there cores can be, I wanted them to be more unique and orginal but still believable. I pray that I succeeded! If you're curious about the wood used for the wands though I actually used the information given on pottermore for that, picking which I thought suited the character. Who I want them to be and who I want them to become. P.S. In case you're about to freak out that there is no way Ollivander could still be alive, the Mr. Ollivander in the Harry Potter books is Garrick Ollivander. You might note that the one I mentioned is Gavin Ollivander, see what I did there? It's his son. YAY FOR OCs! Okay that's it I'm done rambling, in the mean time I'm always open to requests, advice, or suggestions. Toodles :D**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:... *cricket cricket* They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, so you must be absolutely in love with my story by now! Right? RIGHT?! Sorry ignore the tone of desperation I hope none of you have lost interest in the story! The screws in my laptop went all mutiny on me and jumped ship breaking the screen, ergo I needed a new computer (which seemed to take forever and a day). Not to mention the unbearable amount of writers block I dealt with, gahhh it was terrible and relentless, I thought I would never conquer my tremendous foe, but alas I did and here is the next chapter :D. May it be comparable to a starving squirrel finding a horde of really delicious acorns. In Antarctica, after battling cannibalistic penguins. Oh you get the point!**

**P.S. Once again I must demonstrate my pleasure of receiving reviews/follows/favorites it makes me happy, thank you oodles! **

**DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all of his spectacular friends/foes/family/acquaintances still belong to Rowling. **

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x Sawyer's Perspective x

Procrastination and I have a love hate relationship, every time that I've encountered it. Whether it be quidditch practice, a school assignment, confronting someone, I've sworn that I would never put something off again. And yet here I am just now preparing myself for the first task. It's not that I'm not taking it seriously. I was just worried if I started trying to figure out what the task might be, I would back myself into a cavern of stress and anxiety and I would have to eat my way out through chocolate. Now I'd spent the entire weekend locked up in the dorm and common room with the school's one copy of _Triwizards Tragedies, _only coming out for meals. I've been reading up on the Triwizard Tournaments that they've held in the past to get an idea of what I might be coming up against this Saturday, only four days away now.

Last time it was held, the first task consisted of obtaining a golden egg being guarded by a mama dragon and allowed only your wand. And clothes of course, duh. At least I know that I won't have to endure that. When the Tournament was first being designed in 1294 it was decided that tasks were to never be repeated, it's one of the other magical binding stipulations of the goblet. I also won't be tasked with trying to herd a group of rampaging hippogriffs in a timely fashion as that was one of the catastrophes of 1587. Capturing cockatrice is also eliminated considering it was the event that ultimately canceled the tournament in 1792, after one escaped and injured three of the judges. I think I could handle hippogriffs, dragons, or even demon chickens, as long as spiders aren't involved I'm sure I'll do just fine. Or preying mantis, those terrify me as well. I wonder if it's giant man eating fungi that we'll have to face, that would be just fantastic '_Death by Toadstool'_ could be added to _Hogwarts; A History_.

Suddenly I feel a hand being placed on my shoulder, jerking me out of my reverie. "Sawyer, class ended five minutes ago." Turning around to find Professor Longbottom staring down at me amusedly. "I'm used to others dozing off in my class, daydreaming. But this is a first for you." Although his words seem like I'm being chastised, his smile betrays him. Usually he has to write me a note for being late to my next class because I always have more questions after the lesson. "Is the bleeding tooth fungus not fascinating enough for you." He gestures to the odd plant we had been studying today, levitating it carefully back into the glass terrarium to not disrupt the droplets that resemble blood that bead on top of the spongy white surface.

"Oh no, not at all!" I respond out in a rush, gathering up my books to place back into my backpack. "It's just- um well you see, the thing is..." He raises an eyebrow in question as I stutter, trying to explain myself, I don't want to pull the 'champion' card. But it _is_ why I'm so distracted lately. "I'm just nervous about this Saturday is all."

I wait for him to chuckle at me and am surprised when instead he just nods understandingly, staring past my shoulder out the greenhouse window. Now lost in his own thoughts I'm about to politely excuse myself when he finally speaks. "Harry was quite besides himself too when he was preparing for the tasks. Spent hours in empty classrooms or the library trying to find the answer to the mermaid riddle." I dark look captures his features as if something had just occurred to him. "Of course this was all before Voldemort's return, everything changed after that year." The professor shakes his head vehemently. "Yes well enough of that. I want Hogwarts to win, I am a bit biased. But I still wish you the best of luck!." Having seemingly returned back to his normal demeanor I thank him quickly and speed out the door, heading for my next class.

Why hadn't I thought of that before? Professor Longbottom looks to be the same age as Rose's Mom, so it only makes sense that he would have been in their year. And he would have had to be in Gryffindor in order to be the head of the house. I could smack myself for being so blonde. Rose only ever speaks fondly of him and I've heard her slip up a few times referring to him as Uncle Neville. Obviously he's a good friend of the family.

Running the remaining way to the dungeons for potions, it's the last class of the day and then I can resume my studying for the first task. It wouldn't hurt to brush up on some of my defensive and offensive spells. Perhaps with the help of Sebastian or Rose if she's not busy. And if all else fails Lysander would probably help.

"Miss Grayson, how kind of you to join us." I'd tried to creep in as ninja-like as possible, but that blasted door is just old and creaky betraying my lateness.

"I'm truly sorry, I was-" I stammer out fighting against the blush creeps up my cheeks as everyone turns to stare.

"It is no matter now, I was just explaining how you will be partnered up for the next two weeks for an assignment." He brushes off my apology, carrying on like normal. Professor Higgs likes me well enough, I have him for both Advanced Potions and Alchemy. He just doesn't appreciate tardiness. Glancing around the room I notice that everyone is standing as they wait to be paired off. I had a feeling he wouldn't let us pick our partners.

As groups are decided, my chances of being partnered with someone I actually know are slowly dwindling down. Sadly for Rose she was matched up with Alexandria, sucks for her. Sebastian ended up with a girl from Slytherin that I had yet to meet, Zabini, and she oddly reminded me of a pug puppy. With only four people remaining, including myself, Higgs finally got to my name.

"Grayson." Isabelle winks at me conspiratorially since the only students left are myself, her, Albus, and another girl from Slytherin. It's not unlikely for us to be partners. "And Potter. Leaving Thomas and Crabbe." With everyone decided, Albus saunters up to me before offering his arm.

"My Lady." He drawls in an aristocratic way as if he were escorting me to a fancy gala and not to a decrepit desk. I can't help but giggle at his antics as we reach the only available table. At least I don't have to deal with awkward small talk and trying to get to know someone I hadn't met before, like if I had been with Crabbe. A stern look from Higgs puts a stop to my laughter, although he doesn't appear too upset.

Quickly settling down, I whip out some parchment and a quill to prepare myself to take notes for the assignment that we will be tackling. Turning to face the front I have to tilt severely to the left in order to see around Scorpius's tall frame. I notice that next to him Jocelyn is only a few inches shorter than Scorpius, causing Albus to do the same as me to get a look to the front.

"For the next five weeks you will be researching, collecting for, and making a draft of Polyjuice Potion. By this Friday I expect each team to turn in three scrolls of parchment detailing the purpose, history and use of the Polyjuice Potion." Upon hearing this the entire class as a whole sighs in exasperation, everyone except for Rose that is. That's six feet of writing! "Now, now. Because of this work load I will be canceling classes this week." Excited whispers permeate the room, and next to me Albus does a celebratory fist pump. "So I expect you to use this allotted time for research. And the essay will be turned in promptly by end of class on Friday."

I frantically scribble all of this down, hoping I didn't miss a detail. The other students proceed to gather up their belongings assuming that was the dismal of class. "Just a moment please." Higgs calls over the students getting their attention once more. "You also have to collect the necessary ingredients by next Monday in order to begin the brewing process, so use your time wisely." With a wave of his hand he sends us scurrying on our way.

"Now Sawyer I have a very prestigious outline for my academic schedule and I will not tolerate slacking of any kind." Turning around I catch Albus standing quite haughtily with his arms crossed in a petulant manner. Is he serious? The class clown himself who just last week placed his pestle on his forehead and proceeded to prance on the room proudly declaring that he was a unicorn, is berating me for dedication to this project?

"Yeah, okay then." Staring at him oddly, I guess he reached his limit of seriousness because a moment later he starts snickering. "Oh you can be such a tool Albus." I punch him the arm for good measure, but he just teeters on like a demented hyena.

"Well come on then we can go to the Library and plan a battle tragedy for this beastie of a project." He amends throwing an arm over my shoulder, steering me to the doorway.

"But I really should be preparing for the upcoming task." Attempting to persuade him.

"Pish posh, you've been locked in Gryffindor Tower the entire weekend studying for it. I'm half tempted to start calling you Rapunzel."

"But Professor Higgs didn't say that we had to begin _today_."

"True, but I often find that there is no time like the present." There is just no stopping this guy once he's set his mind to it. If it weren't for being the champion I would actually be pleasantly surprised at his determination to work on the project.

Catching Rose's eye just a few feet away, I stare at her imploringly she just laughs at my predicament. Shrugging like she doesn't know what has gotten into her cousin. This snags the attention of Scorpius and Sebastian who are chatting about something or other. My traitor best friend just covers his mouth, hiding a smile. He taps his back, at the base of his neck gesturing to the Solartian tattoo. His subtle way of saying; man up you're on your own. For some strange reason Scorpius's eyes narrow as he observes this encounter with Albus. Strange, I figured he would get a kick out of his best friend subjecting me to his humor. Who peed in his Pixie Puffs this morning? Resigned to my fate, I let Albus herd me toward the library like a poor defenseless baby calf.

xxx

"Who knew the Polyjuice Potion had such a dramatic history, execution, a bastard child, _lust_." Albus waggles his eyebrows at me, emphasizing the last word.

"Of course after working on a six foot long paper, _that_ is what you choose to retain from all the grueling information that we acquired" I mumble absentmindedly while skimming over the aforementioned assignment. We had been working on it everyday during what was usually our Advanced Potion class, but also for an hour or two in the evenings. Although Albus can be deemed the very definition of a goofball, I found myself surprised that he actually does take class work seriously. Just maybe not in the class itself.

It's weird how much you assume about people based purely on first impressions. When we were first informed of being partners I thought I would pretty much be carrying the team, doing all the work. And at the end of the week he would slap his name on there as well without contributing. But we actually work very well together, we divided up the research right away and were able to get through it all. However I do have to say since Albus's handwriting is so terrible it could pass for ancient hieroglyphics I did physically write the three scrolls worth. While he would explain what to put down.

Our crowning moment however had to be when we snuck into the library after hours to finish up the assignment. Albus had told me earlier yesterday to be certain that I was outside the Gryffindor common room at promptly midnight. At exactly 12:01 I was perched just outside the portrait about to light my wand when something grabbed a hold of my wrist. I would have made an impressive yelping sound if it weren't for the hand suddenly covering my mouth. My eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and I could make out the familiar features of Albus. Just beyond him everything possessed a shimmery look to it, almost as if there was a thin layer of water wrapped around us. After I hissed at him for taking at least five years off my life, he managed to explain through his snorting that it was his Dad's old invisibility cloak that his brother had passed down to him after he had graduated. There was much stumbling involved and shushing because we unintentionally took turns laughing at the other.

If you had told me last week that I would be spending majority of my time with Potter and actually enjoying it. Well I would have had you sent to the Hospital Wing because obviously there was something mentally wrong with you. We had never hated each other, I thought he was funny just a bit annoying and more arrogant. He was still all those things, I've just come to realize there's more to him than that. Nothing like bonding over musty potion books to get to know someone. Now just twelve hours later from that little adventure and the assignment was done just before the potions class was to happen.

"For the love of all things magical and right in the world would you put that blasted scroll down and eat something." Suddenly the second scroll is snatched from my hands and I'm looking at a very irate Isabelle. I'm about to explain that I was checking for errors, when she beats me to the punch. "That is the fourth time you've read through it, I'm sure it's fine."

"And I thought Rose was a perfectionist." Okay, yes they aren't exaggerating, I had already proofread it three times. I was determined to make sure there were no mistakes we missed. Still that didn't stop me from elbowing Lysander in the stomach for adding his two cents.

"Fine, fine." I make a show of shoving my sandwich into my mouth. "Arg ruh rhappy?"

"Moderately." Rose makes a face at my amazing table manners.

"Moving on from the horrible moment of seeing Sawyer's half chewed food, which will give me nightmares." Albus shudders for added affect. "Who's all going to the shindig this evening." He lowers his voice down to not be overheard. Oh no, not this again. The entire week he had been going on about having a pre-first task party to start off the Tournament. At least that's what he says. Everyone seems to be in on it though except for me and Rose. Parties aren't really my thing, they normally involve small talk. And drinking, I'm weird enough as it is and I'd rather not add alcohol to the mix. Don't even get me started about my dancing skills, or lack their of.

"It would be unfair to the female population if I were to deprive them of my presence." Lysander shrugs as if this is a burden he has come to accept. Next to me I hear Isabelle mumble something that rhymes with 'full-spit'.

Swallowing down my food I notice that the owls are making their mid-day rounds, just a few deliveries here and there. Most post comes during breakfast.

"Wasn't the _Daily Prophet_ supposed to come out this morning?" I'm not 'stoked' per se to see how the session from the Weighing of Wands ceremony went, but I'm curious and would just rather have it out of the way. No one seems to have heard me as they all continue with their conversations not even glancing my way, I must have been too quiet. "Hello, _Daily Prophet_, ringing any bells?"

"No, they must have pushed back the date. Editors do that sometimes" Rose answers nonchalantly.

"Uh huh." A few people down Lily stares intently at ends of her hair, avoiding eye contact with me. Yeah that's not suspicious at all. "Alright, what aren't you guys telling me?" I turn toward Sebastian, he'll be the easiest to crack, and give him my best puppy dog face. I've had years of practice on him, and he caves every time.

"We didn't want you to see it." He spits out, still avoiding me straight on.

"I think I can handle an ugly picture of me." They all remain silent. "What it can't be that bad." Can it? I'm not completely disfigured.

"I told you we shouldn't have tried to hide it from her." Isabelle chastises as she rumbles through her backpack looking for something. "Here you go, but don't say we didn't warn you." She hands me over a rather crumpled copy of this mornings _Daily Prophet. _I don't have to go very far to find our article, considering that we're on the front page.

"Hey this actually a rather cute picture of me." For once my round face didn't look obnoxiously chubby when I smiled. Its the curse of the Chipmunk Cheeks.

"I would suggest reading it love." Scorpius responds, at least he didn't call me Blondie.

"Fair point." I was trying to avoid that. Reading through it doesn't actually seem that bad. She does a brief overview of the renewal of the Triwizard Tournament then describes the purpose of the Weighing of Wands ceremony using that as a jump start to analyze the champions. Lukas is dark, mysterious, and an enigma that is sure to unravel as the Tournament progresses. Yes, yes we know Scorpius is handsome and charming, very promising to do well. Finally I reach her bit on me.

"_Being America's Sweetheart and champion Sawyer Grayson's debut was lacking in eloquence and social graces. However despite these quirks, this unpolished gem seems to have wasted no time acquainting herself with our own Hogwarts champion, and was seen leaving the room with him on very cozy terms. Not to be deterred by the decline of an interview, I gleaned more insider details from one of Sawyer's dearest classmates; Alexandria King. The sympathetic friend lamented on her concern for Sawyer's well being, uncertain of how she will handle the stress of such dangerous tasks. Might she be able to prove her worth on such intellectually challenging trials. Polite but simple, will she shock us all and trump her blonde persona? Or did this little slice of apple pie bite off more than she can chew?_"

There was more to the article but it quickly disappeared from my view, flickering into ashes as the tell-tale tingling in my palms incinerated the newspaper. Why didn't she just quit the semantics and skip right to telling the world that I was a blonde bimbo trying to seduce the competition? Before anyone can offer sympathetic remarks I refocus my attention on Albus.

"I'm in."

x Albus's Perspective x

I still can't believe Scorpius wanted to have this thing in the Room of Requirement, and not here. That's so over done, and what's the point of having a secret party if there's no thrill of possibly getting caught? None I tell you. Not to mention that corridor always seems to be watched since students are more likely to use it for whatever suits their fancy. Besides, this has a nice creepy feeling. Kind of ominous if you ask me. Greenhouse #7 has been abandoned since Teddy's first year, and it's the furthest from the Great Hall and the closest to the Weeping Willow. Making it the perfect location in case we need to make a quick run to Hogsmeade for more supplies.

I'd been playing with the idea of throwing a bash ever since Scor was announced as the champion. I have to admit I was actually relieved to not be Hogwarts champion, too much pressure to live up to and bring home the trophy. I put in my name because it was expected of me, but if I had made it, the entire thing would have been cast into the shadow of my dad and not of my own merit. The deciding factor was this Monday during Potions, Scorpius seemed so wound up that I figured as his best mate I owed it to him to have a crack before risking his life. Who doesn't like a good party?

"Hey man" Just five after twelve and in strolls some of the Gryffindor blokes and their guests. Sebastian takes turns exchanging this strange handshake, high five hybrid. Americans have some odd forms of greetings. Off to find Michael further back setting up the drinks, leaving me with Lysander and Cillian McClaggen.

"My less good looking half not here yet?" Yeah because there can be an uglier one of a set of identical twins.

"Lorcan decided against joining the festivities this evening. " Scorpius telss him, offering them both a drink. "He mentioned it yesterday in Arithmancy."

"He's such a bore." Lysander responds, taking a swig of the firewhiskey .

"Where's the ladies of Gryffindor?"

"Not ready just yet." Cillian offers, after his turn from the flask. "Isabelle about clipped me with her shoe to get that point across."

"Silly birds, getting in such a tizzy trying to impress me. There's more than enough Lysander love to go around." I'm just going to let that one go, he can make me seem decent in comparison. They venture on to the back to where we've transfigured a few of the old tables into sofas. Next comes in a mixture of 6th and 7th years from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, its harder to tell without the uniforms.

A girlish squeal rips through the air and I'm suddenly attacked by a cloud of perfume."Hey there handsome." That would be Ivy's idea of an appropriate greeting, walking her fingers along the edges of my unzipped jumper. She's not a bad person. Nothing like her mother's reputation, just a bit of a slag.

"Hello to you too."

"Indeed." Removing her hand, to toss her glossy black hair of her shoulder. Why does that trick always work, the little minx. "So _this_ is it?" Alright so she can be snob, but a fit snob.

"Not quite, there's still a few trickling in." Scorpius adds.

"Don't be silly. The parties just arrived." If Ivy is a slag than I don't know a more intense term to label who she's hosting. Alexandria seems to be a different breed of dame all on her own. Trailing just behind her two other Essex girls who must be her permanent shadow. Scorpius doesn't seem to be thrilled with their arrival and instead has put on his go-to mask of polite indifference. For reasons untold he's been civil to her but clearly he isn't interested so I'm not sure why he's even wasting the effort.

Snaking an arm through his, she leads him further into the room. I quickly lose sight of them as they weave through the crowd. He can handle himself. Ivy and the other two have also disappeared into the room. There's not a drink in my hand, I should fix that. With a mug full of Knotgrass Mead I head back to the front, guffing around with a few people along the way.

"Oi tosser, where's the butterbeers?"

"And there's the lovely lionesses, finally gracing us with their beauty" Isabelle, Sawyer, and Catelyn Boot weaving around the mass of people. With everyone here I can finally stop pacing around the doorway like a prat waiting to seal it from intruders, we placed a few silencing charms around the area. But this will be the best security measure.

"I'm a wolf, thanks." A quick jab at my rib cage alerts me of Sawyer's presence behind me as I finish placing the wards. The little blonde has grown on me since becoming partners. oddly enough I don't mind spending time with her without snogging her. Not that I wouldn't fancy it, its nice just being mates though.

"And would Fido like a drink?" There's the feisty spark that's so entertaining, but I can tell she's nervous. Rose told me she isn't normally the partying type. "Just a butterbeer, there's hardly anything in them." Handing her one she looks at it before deciding to drink some, must be tense from the article still.

"Sawyer!"Sebastian booms from across the room, yelling over the music that someone conjured. An old fashioned phonograph maybe, nothing else would work unless it was live. Lysander comes striding toward us. Poor Scor I can see Alexandria dragging him along with her to the space that has become the dancing area. Swaying up against him, I'm not even sure I'm mature enough to be watching this. Next to me I feel Sawyer tense up.

"Just peachy." She grits out, shrugging off her jumper. Well that's more of her figure I've seen, the top hugging her curves unlike her uniform. "Can I have some of that?" Taking the flask right out of Lysander's hands only hesitating a moment.

"I wouldn't-" Without stop she chugs down more than I would recommend "And now you've had firewhiskey." She shivers all over once, flushing a deep rosy color, then opens her eyes.

"Dance with me?" That was unexpected, taking her offered hand allow her to lead the way. But who am I to say no to a pretty dame?

xxx

"What fresh hell is this?!" Rising up quickly, I reach for my throbbing nose searching for the culprit of causing my pain. I'll kill Scorpius for this. Perched directly on my chest is a large russet owl glaring down at me with oversized yellow eyes, as if it knows that I've been causing trouble. So I won't be killing him. "Good Evening Bastet what can I do for you?" I've received too many notes from this particular screech owl to not recognize it as McGonagall's personal messenger. I swear the old bat has a sixth sense about my misbehavior. I hastily untie the scroll from its leg to avoid being nipped on the nose once again, at least McGonagall isn't one to send howlers.

With it's duty carried out the owl swoops out from under the table disappearing from my view. How exactly I managed to be under one of the decrepit tables we shoved to the side I will never know. Dread washes over me as I unroll the parchment, preparing myself for the worst.

_Mr. Potter report to my office at promptly 6 am._

_Headmistress McGonagall _

The time on my watch shows that its just now five, that gives me an hour before I attend my own funeral. I wonder how much detention I'll get this time, hopefully it's not polishing the trophies again sans magic. I have every single bloody awarded inscription burned into memory by the amount of times that I've wiped away the tarnish.

No sense in prolonging what I'm sure is to be a lovely little meeting with the Headmistress I roll out from under the table sending a furry little spider scuttling away from me as I wait for the room to stop spinning. Everything is still hazy and blood like heated lava slowly churns through my veins, left over sensation from the firewhiskey I suppose. Might not be a bad idea for a shower before going to the Head's office. Its bound to sober me up as well rid myself the stench of the alcohol, hopefully. The room seems stable enough as I rise to my feet using the table for support. There's a maze of people strewn across the floor and the tops of the tables snoring away. Picking my way threw them towards the door I spot Scorpius nestled between two chairs completely passed out and missing one shoe. I've never seen him drink as much as he did last night, usually he's the sensible (boring) one when it comes to these sort of things. Good for him, finally letting go for a bit. Not far away from him is that American bird Alexandria, who was matched up with Ivy Zabini. Hugging a potted Umbrella Flower isn't my cup a tea, but that's just me.

Tiptoeing around Lysander I have to stop myself from performing a Leek Jinx on him, just for a laugh. I slip out through the door and make my way to the great hall pulling my jumper closer together to fend off the bitter cold. Luckily the frosty temperatures actually help to rid myself of the lethargic feeling slowing my senses, brilliant I can already tell I'm stumbling less. This is when being good at Potions would come in handy, there's got to be an elixir out there to help with sobriety. Sawyer would know, too bad she's cuddled up in the Gryffindor tower and would murder me if sent an owl up there at this Merlin forsaken hour. Or at least I assume she is, since I didn't see her in the labyrinth of people still in the greenhouse. I have the vaguest recollection of Sebastian tossing her over his shoulder and taking her off the dance floor. Bah, I doubt I even have to the time to concoct such a thing before my own personal doomsday.

The only difference when I finally get inside the castle is that there isn't any wind, aside from that it's just as freezing cold inside as it is outside. Even more so the closer I get to the dungeons.

xxx

"Manx" I grumble to the hideous gargoyle guarding the staircase to her office. It creaks angrily as if it too doesn't appreciate being up this early. I know the feeling. Thank Merlin the icy shower helped to wake up among other things. Once I've reached the oak door at the top of spiral stairs I don't even bother with knocking. McGonagall would just blather on about its "superfluous" nature anyways since she knew I was coming. Odd I didn't know I would have audience for this reprimanding, that can't be a good sign. More than just our beloved Headmistress in the office is two other figures.

What is normally just two high backed chairs another has been transfigured to make room for a third, since the first two are already with their backs to me there's no way I know who they are. Strutting up to them I drop myself into the third chair "Good Morning ladies." Plastering on my most charming smile. To my left is one of the female Durmstrang students with brown hair and blue eyes, Annabeth, Anastasia? Something like that, I've seen her around a few times I think she's being hosted by Maggie Carson, a Gryffindor in Rose's dorm. She nods at me curtly before turning her gaze back to the McGonagall. Not very friendly that one.

Further down is another girl in the Essex uniform that I've never seen before in my life. Can't be one of the visiting students because I would remember a dame like her no doubt. There's something exotic about her with large brown eyes full lips and curly brown hair. Even sitting down I can tell she's fit in that perfect curvy way. Wouldn't mind be on a first name basis with her. I'm about to try chatting her up when McGonagall clears her throat stopping me from doing so. I reluctantly swivel back in her direction wondering what these two birds have to do with me throwing a bash. Neither of them were even there, that's when I briefly consider making use of the invisibility to run back to the Slytherin common room and pretend this never happened. What the bloody hell is Aunt Hermoine doing here?

* * *

**A/N: Yeah that just happened. So what do you think getting to know Albus (or at least my version of him) a little better? It was personally kind of weird writing from his perspective. As a character I'm still figuring him out myself, he's an odd one to understand. On a side note the comment he makes about their research, originally was added in what exactly he was referring to. But it through off the flow so I took it out. I was absolutely brain dead about what to make the Polyjuice Potion history be, because the book never actually specified. I did a some exploring on the interwebs and found someones idea that it was first made by Merlin for Uther's use so he could seduce a married woman disguised as her real husband. Thus creating Arthur Pendragon, if you're really curious I'm going to put a link to it on my page for people to check out. THE BLEEDING TOOTH FUNGUS IS A REAL THING, GOOGLE IT!. Mkay that's all lovelies, next time I see you (not really) the first task will be occurring! Toodles :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Wow, no really I don't think you understand. After the last chapter I posted, my views skyrocketed, I'd never had so many in one day! It was incredible and then I received the most amazing review, I feel all sorts of special knowing that my story is one of the only OC centered that that person will read. There's something about being commended for your efforts by a complete stranger, just fills you with sunshine. I swear I felt like I was a little kid back at Disney World and had just met my favorite princess. Thank you guys so fricken much, it makes me happy that you were interested enough to even read it. Alright I'm done with my gushing (*blathering), down to the nitty gritty, the first task. Dun dun DUUUUUN! Enjoy :D.**

**P.S. This is an updated version of the chapter, I was so excited about posting it that I didn't proofread as well as I normally do. And went through it to correct my mistakes, if you've already read this chapter there's no crucial difference I just don't feel the need to smack myself with a dictionary and a guide to grammar now. **

**DISCLAIMER: Even if I could go back in time and somehow create Harry Potter before JK Rowling (which would be really hard since I would be only 4 when it first came out), I wouldn't because she is perfection and I wouldn't have it any other way. So obviously I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

**x (Sawyer's Perspective) x**

Hogwarts' quidditch field is once again being used for a spectating event, I'd been out here only once while exploring the grounds with Sebastian. Of course all fields are the same size, but the seating for the students put our's to shame. Which is fair considering Hogwarts larger student body. For now the towers had been replaced with more typical stadium style seating, but not as high. Starting at ground level and reaching up to only fifty feet. It looked more like an overgrown football field than one meant for quidditch from what I had seen so far.

Lukas, Scorpius, and I had been ushered from the Great Hall at exactly 9 a.m. Escorted down to the pitch by the judges. They didn't want us to have an advantage of seeing the physical surroundings of the challenge before it began. Fine by me I would psych myself out anyways, trying to figure what the task was based on the set up. Now we were all gathered inside of a voluminous tent to be briefed for what was to come. I felt like I'd been dressed for a track event. This morning I woke to find an outfit on the end of the bed, Rose said one of the house elves had brought it in. There was a slim pair of athletic pants black with two plum stripes running down the sides of the outer leg, and a coordinating sports jacket also in Essex colors.

Fidgeting with the zipper I try not to pace as we wait for the two remaining judges to arrive. My goal is to stay on the opposite side of the tent from Scorpius, most of last night is a blur but I have a distinct recollection of something awkward happening. I remember arriving at the party and feeling beyond nervous, almost going back to the dorm several times. If Isabelle hadn't been dragging me along with her, I would have. Everything was fine to begin with, chatting with Albus while enjoying a butterbeer for the first time. It's like happiness in a bottle. Then I became really mad at something, can't recall now. Taking Lysander's flask, practically draining it. And for a grand finale paraded onto the dance floor with Al in tow. That's it, next thing I know I woke up in my bed. I figure its better to be safe than sorry and avoid Scorpius until I can interrogate Izzy and find out what happened last night. Having reached the furthest corner Milton gives me a warm smile when I catch her gaze. "Here they are." McGonagall announces. I stride back over to where the other champions are, how can they stand still?

"At last the time has come for the First Task, a moment only the three of you can understand and appreciate. Today your opponent will be against time and nature. Each of you will presented with a volunteer who is currently comatose from a toxic poison. Your objective is to diagnose the ailment as such, obtain the necessary ingredients for an antidote, and prepare it as such. All of this is to be accomplished in a twelve hour period." Mrs. Weasley informs us of all of this a matter-of-fact manner, uncannily like her daughter. "If at any point during the task you are disabled, send out red flares with your wand. Any questions?"

"What if we need to use the facilities?" It slips out, of its own accord. Stupid word vomit. Lee Jordan begins to laugh just behind Rose's mom.

"Every three hours, there will be an optional ten minute break for the champions. In order to relieve themselves or grab a quick snack." He explains after gathering himself. Well we won't be starving to death, good thing nerves don't affect my appetite and I ate a large breakfast. Hopefully I can save myself some time by skipping the breaks. "Also, Malfoy you will find your area to be the furthest down at station one, Grayson in the middle at two, and Zmetsna at three."

"Yes, well without further ado. Let's begin." The tent flaps are raised, allowing us to exit. Before I can make my way towards it I'm being wrapped into a tight hug.

"I would wish you luck, but I don't want to insult your very capable abilities." Milton whispers releasing me from her grasp, scurrying away before I can thank her. Doing the polite thing I hold back letting the judges exit first. Alright Sawyer you can do this just walk outside. Go out those doors. Taking a deep breath I force myself to leave the safety of the tent.

Now I can see why they didn't want us taking a sneak peak. Majority of the pitch has been transformed into a dense forest and you can see something peeking just over the tops of the canopy. Only the first fifty feet of the field was kept the same with a raised dais in the center.

Moving closer to the platform, there are three beds from the Hospital wing. Each of them their own designated figures covered in white material preventing us from seeing them in detail. The beds are roughly ten feet apart from each other with a work table and stool for each station. Finally at the area designated for me I notice that each table is equipped with all the necessary items for making a potion. A standard size 2 copper cauldron, brass scales, several empty glass phials, mortar and pestle, some weird looking silver instruments, and twenty or so books.

"Welcome all." From the central box in the stands I can see the judges, Mrs. Weasley with her wand at throat. "Today our champions will be tested on their ability to adapt to their situation, time management skills, and aptitude for potions. Each of the voluntary subjects has been administered a highly toxic poison just an hour prior. The champions have a twelve hour period to diagnose the poisoning, then obtain the required ingredients and prepare it." The remaining parts of the field had been transformed into a dense forest and just over the tips I can see what appears to be a miniature mountain? "The task begins, now." With that the sheets covering the 'victims' disappear, who exactly would be okay with being poisoned?!

Oh. On the table is a girl dressed in an Essex uniform. Despite what is usually a rich tan complexion has paled considerably, I could probably recognize this person blind folded. Don't freak out, don't freak out. Your best friend has been poisoned, and you an under-aged witch have to save her in a limited time span, with limited knowledge. There's no way that can end poorly. My breaths are shorter, like I can't bring enough oxygen into my lungs. I smack myself in the face hoping to shake it off, that works in the movies right? Deep breaths, panicking will not help.

With my mental breakdown out of the way I force myself to focus on the task at hand. Being a drama queen will by no means help anyone, especially Cecilia. I mentally collect all the bombarding questions I have, shoving them into a box for later. Pretend like she's asleep and you're pranking her with Emmy just like old times. I can do this.

Snagging a piece of parchment and quill from the desk I start with observations. She won't thank me for hesitating so I automatically begin inspecting her for physical effects. Starting with the basics I press two fingers in the hollow space between her wind pipe and large muscle in the neck. It rapidly flutters against my fingers. Okay increased heart rate. Her skin is also extremely warm to the touch and excessively dry. Miniscule fissures webbing between her flesh, scaly texture. I gently prod her eyelid open, dilated pupils but nothing besides that. Every so often she twitches like she's having minor convulsions. No residue left over from regurgitation, luckily. Vomiting is normally a common part of digesting a poison, so that will help narrow it down. However her mouth was also dry. Too bad there isn't a witchy version of WebMD I could just check mark what was wrong with her and find the cause. With nothing else to go on, I move over to the table and sift through the books. Some of the titles are recognizable, others not so much.

'_Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions', __'A Collection of Above Three Hundred Receipts in Cookery, Physick, and Surgery', '__Asiatic Anti-Venoms'. _These were a few that actually seemed helpful.

I wouldn't be surprised if some of them were actually added in as decoy books, to throw us off and slow us down. Because I highly doubt that I'll find the answer in _Potions Opsucle,_ that's the text book first years use. Seriously _Snow White_?

Alright start with what you know, _Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions._ Doxy Bite? No there aren't teeth marks of any sorts, that also takes out Whitetail Spider poison. Also no puncture marks so she couldn't have been stung by something. The rest of the poisons and venom described aren't severe enough and could be fixed with an Antidote to Common Poisons. Good news is I won't have to gut a goat for a bezoar. _Asiatic Anti-Venoms _didn't prove useful either.

Time to pull out the big guns, grabbing the dusty copy of _Moste Potente Potions _by Phineas Bourne, I flip through hoping to find an index. What book doesn't have an index?! However there is a lovely depiction of a lady with a spider for a bonnet. I'm sure my brain will store that away for future nightmare materials. Half way through the tome I find a chapter dedicated solely to poisons, perfect. Alright lets see what we have here. Dragon Poison, feverish quality to the skin, check, scale like, check. There's no way I'm this lucky to find it on the first try. Green tint to the skin, okay maybe not. Weedosoros, decaying hair and fingernails. Certainly not. Bloodroot Poison, I think I would notice disgusting scabs and darkened veins . Moonseed, orange snails, fungus. No no and NO!

In my frustration I toss it to the side knocking over the other stack of books to the ground. Gathering them up I take note of the Snow White one that I opened displaying one of the archaic images, weird I don't remember this version in Disney. The image is enchanted so that it shows a short scene playing on loop. There are two young women, one with deep red hair the other black. They seem to be wandering through a forest picking wildflowers, and the redhead convinces the other to drink the fluid from one of the flowers. Like you would a honeysuckle. Upon doing so the one I assume is Snow White is coated in flames and left steaming. Finally cooling to a scaly texture, not unlike that of Cecilia. Holding the book closer I see in better detail the flower that was her undoing. Why does that look so familiar?

The flower came from a smaller tree with large blossoms hanging upside down, pale in color and shaped almost like a horn? Not the animal kind but the musical kind. I know I've seen it somewhere, it's on the tip of my tongue. Glancing down at my watch the traitorous little hands inform me that close to an hour has passed. But at least I have an idea what I'm looking for. For the first time sense we started I give myself a moment to assess the competition. To my left Lukas has surrounded himself with several books turning pages ever few seconds. With a shock I realize I know his volunteer, its Anastasia, the Durmstrang girl in our dorm. I can's say I'm surprised to find that Albus is Scorpius's, although it is weird that he's taking off Al's shoes. I'm not behind in the game, that's good.

Focusing back onto the task at hand I plop down with the ginormous copy of _Goshawk's Guide to Herbology. _If I'm right on my hunch, the flower that took out Snow White will be somewhere within the 2076 pages of this monster. It's like a dictionary for any shrub, tree, flower, fungus, etc. I've never been so happy for my unhealthy obsession with plant life. While most people would laugh at me for doing so, I've actually read this thing through a few times. I even own a copy, ironically Cecilia got it for me for Christmas several years ago. One point for the herbology nerd! Flipping straight to the section designated for toxic plants. I start combing through the pages looking for the one I need.

**x (Scorpius's Perspective) x**

If I'm fortunate Al will have no recollection of this little event, I know how he is about feet and he would go around the bend if he knew I had touched his. But the book specifically mentioned a discoloration of nails, both toes and hands. If it was one without the other it could be a different ailment. Poisons were not a trial and error practice, you either get it right the first time or suffer the consequences. One would think that severe escharotic and darkened veins would be a clear sign. But its the symptom of no less than eleven different poisons. Which is how I found myself checking his toenails, they have a deep crimson hue. Brilliant that means it can only be Bloodroot poisoning or Potion No. 113, an experimental mixture of several toxic ingredients. I'm sure that will be just a walk in the park to cure.

My attention is briefly torn from the book when there is a sudden uproar from the crowd. I can't imagine that this is an ideal spectators sport, Sawyer is absent from the table next to me. Her figure is just now disappearing into the fringes of the forest. Shite, she's got a lead on me, I'm only consoled knowing Lukas is still struggling at his end. With renewed vigor I scan over each list of symptoms for the two possible poisons, there has to be something that separates the two. Aha, there it is. Potion No. 113 induces excessive sweating, something Al does not have. Yes! Now I just need to find the antidote for it, there's no way its one of the basic antidote potions we learn in class that would be too simple.

Another ten minutes passes before I find what I'm looking for in _Asiatic Anti-Venoms, s_crawling it all down on a scrap of parchment. With the knapsack loaded with empty phials and _Ingredients Encyclopedia _I sprint towards the forest.

**x (Sawyer's Perspective) x**

It's like the Amazon Jungle and Scottish Highlands had a love child and they transported it here, in the middle of a quidditch pitch. The foliage is so dense, just a few feet in and already I can't see outside of it making it seem bigger on the inside. Such an odd combination of ecosystems, I want to stop and catalog everything but I can't. I have to handle this systematically, if I run in here like a chicken with its head cut off I'll be constantly backtracking for no reason. The antidote to Angel's Trumpet Poison only calls for five ingredients. I should be able to find a natterjack toad and moondew flowers in the same area, since they both have a natural habitat for ponds. I missed the cliché high school experience of dissecting a frog, but I guess I can make up for it now; the antidote requires the brain, yum.

Hysterical laughter bubbled up when I read that I would need two tinctures of syrup from a Devil's Tooth, or as Professor Longbottom refers to them, bleeding tooth fungus. That could prove difficult, but I think I'll manage. The tricky part will be the ashwinder eggs and Pele's Hair. The book described it as volcanic glass threads that were formed when particles of molten material are thrown into the air and spun out by the wind, turning into these long golden hair-like strands. Where in the hopping hippogriffs am I supposed to get molten materials from a volcano?! And the ashwinder eggs will be no piece of cake either. Ashwinders are a serpent born from an unattended magical fire, rising from the ashes they will slither off to lay their eggs and die immediately after. Smokey the bear is going to be pretty ticked that I'm starting a fire without putting it out.

Completely still for a moment I wait to see if I can hear any wildlife, crickets would be a blessing right now because that would mean I'm close to water. Aside from the twittering of birds there's nothing. I move deeper into the woods, maybe if I get away from the nests I'll hear more. After twenty feet I hear a sudden rustle from one of the overgrown bushes. Instinctively diving to the ground as a small dark creature waddles down a little pathway making grunting noises. Well that was embarrassing. Nogtails aren't fearsome creatures unless you're a farmer, or a mama pig. Creepy things though, look like black piglets with abnormally long legs. Insanely hard to catch, at least I didn't need some of their bristles.

Holy mother of Circe what did I land on? Once the breath has reentered my lungs I roll over to get a better look at what was poking into my back. There's an eight inch conifer sapling snapped in half where I landed, poor thing is dead now. I'm sure to have a nasty scratch though. Wait, a conifer? Staying on my knees I start tearing through the leaf litter and brush. Where there are conifers there are bound to be fungus. Bingo! Four feet away at the base of a larger conifer tree are a few bleeding tooth fungi, if I hadn't been on the ground I would of walked straight past them. Grabbing three of the phials out of the bag. The thing about Devil's Tooth is that the cap where it secretes the red liquid is harmless, but the underside where the gills are contain toxins. One brush against my skin and it will fry my nerve endings. Gently placing the phial to the edge, I apply pressure to let the liquid flow in. If I'm not careful and contaminate the syrup with the gills, the results could be disastrous. Placing a cork into the last one I raise back up to my feet and release the breath I was holding in. The antidote only calls for two, but just in case. I can check that off the list.

Following the small trail the nogtail trotted to down, I'm hoping it was headed towards water. The pathway is very narrow and I have to duck under branches several times to avoid being swiped in the face. I stumble into a small clearing where a little pond is, just seven feet in diameter it would have been easy to miss. Chirping of crickets and the croaking of frogs makes it obvious I'm in the right place.

"_Accio _natterjack toad." Nothing happens, I had a feeling they wouldn't let it be that easy. Hmm I think I can kill three birds with one stones. Gathering up a small bundle of twigs and dry leaves. "_Incendio" _I murmur the incantation igniting the little pile. With that started it should be able to create an ashwinder. Prowling closer to the pond I spot a few frogs on lily pads but no toads. You can tell the difference by the texture of their skin, frogs are moist and smooth while toads are dry and bumpy. There's one perched on a log arm's length away, I always was good at I SPY. "_Immobulus._" The toad freezes mid shot of capturing a fly. I transfigure the creature into a stuffed animal for the time being, that will keep it from escaping.

The fire is just now fizzling out, a few more minutes and I might have an ashwinder. Moondew tends to grow amongst cattails, pushing those tall stalks aside I look for the glimmer of their silver petals. Its only slightly easier to find than a needle in a haystack, because the cattails are so thick. Ah there's a patch! I pick six of the flowers making sure that I have more than enough petals. Three ingredients down, two to go. Speaking of which I stroll back over to where I lit the fire, all that is left over are a few tiny embers from the twigs. A thin trail of ash winds away from the pile to the base of willow tree with a pile of rocks surrounding it. I'm not afraid of snakes but I can't say that I want to shove my hand into something blindly to get bitten. Smoothly as possible I levitate the rocks away from the pile, after ten of them I find the little nest that was made purely out of ash. The Ashwinder is already dead then, all that precaution for nothing. I scoop up the lime sized egg with the sleeve of my jacket knowing they'll be hot to the touch and deposit them into the satchel.

Pele's Hair, where for the love of all things magical am I supposed to find a volcano?

**x(Scorpius's Perspective)x **

Ghastly squelching noises fill the area as I pull yet another of the leeches off of my leg. Leaving a small ring of blood on my leg, that's attractive. This wasn't how I planned on obtaining the leeches needed for the antidote, but effective none the less. There was a small pool just at the base of the miniature volcano I stumbled upon whilst chasing the quintaped. After wrestling the furry little bastard down, avoiding his sharp canines just long enough to rip a handful of his coarse hair. Then chased him off with a incineration spell. The Albino Stargrass can only be found underwater, so I had to go for a swim. I should have taken into consideration beforehand that the water may be leech infested. But I suppose the glass is half full as they say, as in my knapsack. The only remaining ingredients to find is the asphodel leaves and willow tree sap.

**x (Sawyer's Perspective) x**

I think I've seen it all now, including the world's smallest volcano, only seventy-five feet in diameter and forty feet high. From what I can tell it was dormant, but I didn't linger to find out. I wandered aimlessly for a while until I encountered an odd smell that was suspiciously like rotten eggs. Following that until I found the baby volcano. Pele's Hair was more abundant than I figured it would be, clumps of it littered the ground in wispy layers of gold. Hard to miss a substance that basically looks like gold and bronze hay.

I've been checking my watch every few minutes paranoid that it would speed up without my permission. But its just now noon, only two hours have passed. Lukas and Scorpius seemed to be struggling still when I left, hopefully they were delayed for a bit. I need to get back to start brewing this thing, but I can only go so fast down the tiny mountain. Tiptoeing around the larger boulders, phew just a few more feet now. Quidditch does not prepare you for this kind of exercise. There's a skittering noise and that's when I realize I shouldn't be worried about the big rocks, but the pebbles would be my down fall, literally. With the stones rolling under my feet I flail my arms and turn to the other side to protect the sack of ingredients, landing firmly on my hip. Second time I've found myself horizontal today. I bite down sharply on my lip to hold in the flaming pain radiating from my pelvic bone.

Wincing as I slowly get back on my feet, I raise the hem of my jacket then pull my pants away from my hip. From the bottom of my ribcage down to tops of my thigh is covered in scratches. I mutter a small healing spell to help out, its the best I can do for now. Raising my head back up I find myself staring right at a graphorn. The size of a rhinoceros but with more purple than gray skin and sporting two horns. It hasn't noticed me yet, still grazing through the grass. I remember Hagrid mentioning them in class a couple of weeks ago, but he couldn't get McGonagall's permission to bring a few in for more 'hands on' learning. Probably because she prefers her students alive. Known for their aggressive behavior and golden horns. He mentioned a few other things but I can't remember them right now. Something about the skin?

What are my options here? I could stand very still and wait for it to go away. Man I would love to have Al's cloak just about now. Or try stunning him, and as last resort sent up my red flare and ball into the fetal position whimpering until someone comes and rescues me. Although tempting, not an option. Sliding my wand out of the holster strapped at my wrist, his ears twitch at the sudden noise of cloth scrapping against leather. There goes the ninja idea.

"_Immobulus!" _The spell ricochets off his skin stunning a nearby hummingbird. I remember what it is now, their skin is tougher than a dragons repelling most incantations. Oops, too bad this isn't a toad, it worked on it. Enraged the hulking creature charges at me leading with its sharp horns, of course it couldn't be a unicorn. Leaping out of the way last minute, but he just alters his course still pursuing me. Alright what can I use to my advantage seeing as my wand is about as useful as a twig right now. I also have the toad, ashwinder eggs, and the other ingredients. Those are no use. Too preoccupied with my thoughts I weave around him too late, his horn grazing my left shoulder. A sharp sting rockets through the wound while blood soaks my uniform. The graphorn's nostrils flare at the scent of fresh blood, I need to deal end this morbid dance before the blood loss starts to affect me. Trees, no good, if I was closer to the pond maybe, all I have now is a large rock. Maneuvering around to where the boulder is at my back, if I time this right his horns should get stuck, if not. Well there will be a Sawyer kebob. Three, two, one. I duck just a moment before his horns make contact, they're so far in past visibility. That should hold him for a while, no way he'll be leaving anytime soon. He rattles his head furiously and they slide out just an inch. I stand corrected.

"_Glacius!" _Thick layers of ice spread over his limbs, affixing him to the ground. Sliding out from the boulder, I scramble away before he can have a fit again. Ignoring the pain I sprint for all I'm worth, the sack thumping against my back keeping a steady rhythm. The trees are finally getting farther apart when I can feel my energy ebbing. Feeling safe enough away from the graphorn I stop to perform a small healing spell on my shoulder. I'm afraid to see just how immense the damage is, so I ignore it resuming my pace until I can see the rest of the pitch.

"Finally some activity from the forest! Is that? Yes it is, Grayson is the first to come out! But was her trip successful?" I can make out a thread of howling through the rest of the roars, and it sends a surge of warmth. Adrenaline courses through me as I hobble-run back to my table. "She appears to be injured." Gee what gave it away, my limp that Igor would be proud of, or the abundance of bodily fluids. "and yet not shooting out the red flares. What a trooper!" Jordan exclaims, there are gasps throughout the crowd as they take in my appearance. Reaching my table the first thing I do is to check Cecelia's status. No change sense I left. I place the torn sack on the table, all the ingredients survived except for a phial of the syrup. Thank Merlin I had the forethought to grab an extra.

Using an incantation I set a low fire on the cauldron to get it warm. And start plucking off petals from the moondew flower, once I have thirteen of the silvery pieces I drop them into the mortar to be crushed. It's like baking except this could kill you. With that cheerful thought in mind I empty the two tinctures of syrup into the cauldron, increasing the flame. It needs to boil and then I can add the crushed moondew and four ashwinder eggs. No prep work for those, just toss them in whole. Double checking the book for the next step, I'm to let the potion brew until it has taken on a teal shade. Which at medium heat will take between thirty and forty minutes. Lowering the heat once again I quickly empty the moondew dust into the cauldron and ashwinder eggs, then stir eight and a half times counter-clockwise. The broad movement aggravates the wound on my shoulder but I grit my teeth and deal with it.

Dripping with sweat I drop down onto the stool satisfied with my work so far. "_Vulnera Sanentur" _pointing my wand at the cut stretching across the front of my left shoulder. I'm not that great of a healer but it will slow the bleeding down immensely. "_Teregeo._". The excess and dried blood disappearing from my body, now I don't look like a victim from a horror movie.

"Here emerges another champion, Malfoy right on the heels of Grayson!" Crap, jumping up to my feet I snatch the toad and volcanic rock. I need to have them ready for by the time the antidote has a teal color. "Will her small lead be enough to win her the highest score?" How does one get the toad brain out? My first thought is too just stab it through the head. But I'm pretty sure that would damage it.

When in doubt read a book, _Ingredient Encyclopedia_ is my best bet. I should get an award for how many pages I've been flipping today. There we are, page 394, amphibians. Oh yeah this is going to be fun. Before anything I change it back into an actual toad. Transfiguration isn't exactly my forte and I must of done something wrong because its no longer alive. Optimistically speaking, that's one less step for me. Setting the toad down in front of me along with the odd collection of silver instruments. I recognize a few of them like the scalpel, scissors and tweezers, but the others look like torture devices.

Placing the toad unto its back, exposing the belly I make a small cut at the base of the jaw, going only through the skin. So incredibly gross, I cut away at the tendons and muscles as the book tells me to. Words cannot describe the terrible smell it's emitting, and its slimy and chunky. I never would have thought I was a squeamish person until now. There's a small snapping noise as I cut through the area where the jaw connects to the skull, slicing through the membrane covering the brain. Almost done, can't believe I haven't screwed this up. One more incision to the spinal cord, with the tweezers I slide the brain out. It's about two centimeters long and a translucent pink color. Never again will I take for granted how we have items like this prepared nicely in a jar for us, ready to go. I would not want to do this sort of thing for every potion we make.

The potion is currently a deep sea green, just a few more minutes now and the potion will be ready. It's five til two, almost four hours sense we started, I'm making pretty good time. With the brass scales I measure out the three clumps of Pele's Hair, several drops of blood appear on the table a few inches away from the toad brain. The healing spell has faded and I'm bleeding again, dark liquid soaks the material of my jacket. I need to reapply the spell, but the potion is ready. Leaning away far enough to not contaminate the potion with my blood but close enough to see what I'm doing. I put the toad brain in and Pele's Hair. Stirring three times clockwise, the potion settles into a bronzy emerald color. Perfect. I start spooning it into a phial to give to Cecilia. Even though I see my hands carrying out this task, their numb, it's happening but I don't seem to be controlling them.

"Grayson appears to be finished with her potion! Keep in mind folks if she fails, she will be suffer from low marks." Giggles erupt from my chest, teetering over to the bed, yeah no pressure or anything.

"Open up Sissy." Either her skin is changing or my vision is just fuzzy. "A spoon full of sugar makes the medicine go down." I sing placing the phial at her lips. This is a whole lot of no, I pry her lips apart and tip the phial down. She looks like a fish, the thought has me laughing again. Now everything is fuzzy like an old TV with bad reception, all grainy with poor sound. Her white uniform blouse is now smeared with dark colors, where did the ketchup come from? There's a sudden choking sound, oh great I've killed my best friend. Heavily relying on the edge of the bed, I see movement from her for the first time all day, her hand moves to cover her mouth. So many noises and voices are assaulting my ears but there's too many to focus on and they sound watered down. The world tilts sideways, even hazier now. A figment of my imagination raises up on the bed. Her mouth is moving, I don't hear the words, not really. But they seem to be seared into my mind. That's nice, Sissy has been working on her poetry.

**x (Scorpius's Perspective) x**

Using my forearm I prop Al's head up so that he doesn't choke, slowly draining the potion into his mouth. There's a soft gurgling sound as he swallows it, my shoulders become instantly less tense as the antidote begins to take affect. Already the darkened veins are fading back to a normal color. Suddenly screams and gasps fill my ears, whipping my head around to find the cause. A few of the officials are on their feet, and exiting the box. Looking down the row I see that the figure on Sawyer's bed is sitting up, does that mean she beat me? The thought is ripped from my thoughts when I see that she isn't next to her volunteer. There, she's slumped on the ground. Without even realizing I had done so, I find myself just a few feet away from her. Her black jacket appears heavy and damp with blood, I can smell it already.

"Mister Malfoy, I suggest you see to your own patient." McGonagall barks out as I'm reaching out towards her. Instinctively I feel inclined to stay, a growl just at the back of my throat, a growl? I'm not some wild animal. _What the hell_? I must have inhaled too much of asphodel leaves making me delirious. When she points over at my table I understand what she's referring too. Albus is in the process of getting up, returning over there I offer him my hand but he doesn't seem fully conscious just yet. Despite that he begins to speak:

_Now there is something we owe_

_An inkling of what is to be_

_Coming from me._

_The people you hold dear_

_Will induce seven great fear_

_The closer you are to done_

_Seek us at the ark_

_You will not hear us whinny_

_Though our number is many_

_To find what we have made_

_One hour is the time to look_

_Or your winning is forsook_

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**A/N: Yucky fact, I researched frog dissection and even watched a video. It was horrible, but I was determined to make it sound somewhat believable. Quick question, what is your opinion on switching POVs multiple times throughout the chapter? I've only ever done it in halves, like first half Sawyer second half Scorpious or vice versa. Is it too distracting or disorienting? Did you get confused or was it fine? I'd love to have some feedback on this, because it would suck if I did it again and it makes people projectile vomit like a bad horror movie. If that's the case, oops, my bad. I just wanted to show how Scor was handling it and I think it lended itself to this particular situation. Yup that's it, hope you lurved it :D, liked it, or heck I'd settle for tolerating it. Toodles :) muwahahahaha I remembered a scene that's coming up soon so stoked. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Might I just say I am so incredibly happy with all you peoples? Sincerely I keep blushing every time I even think about the input that everyone has given me :), you're sweeter than chocolate frogs coated in layers of sugar! It was awesome to receive some feedback on the whole POVs thing, I genuinely care whether something works or not. Also if something jumps out at you, like I contradicted myself or messed up with something feel free to let me know, I've been getting so excited about chapters that when I proofread them I tend to jump over words without even noticing. Moving on, I hope you like this chapter it's going to be a little different. You'll see what I mean ;). **

**DISCLAIMER: Nope still not owning Harry Potter (shocking isn't it?)**

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**x (Rose's Perspective) x**

Generally speaking its a part of my nature to agree with rules and regulations. They are in affect to benefit and protect the people. However when I've just observed one of my friends lose consciousness induced by blood loss, my fortitude on such things begin to slip. Especially when its some asinine purpose. It was difficult enough to watch and not to be able to assist them in their research. Scorpius was probably skipping past important pages and Sawyer has this nasty habit of bending a page over to mark her place. I cringed just considering the damage that she was doing.

Craning over the edge of the railing I see Scorpius venturing closer to where Sawyer collapsed. I can't hear what was said but McGonagall dissuaded him from doing so and he returns back to his station. My attention quickly redirected back to there as Albus stirs on the table. Oh thank Merlin, the antidote worked. Sawyer and Scorpius completed the task almost simultaneously, its unclear who came in first. Certainly not Lukas though, he's just now concocting his potion. Having arrived only ten minutes prior.

"What's happening, is she alright? Can you tell?" Just to my left is Sebastian, I had to threaten to hex him in order to keep him from charging onto the field when she collapsed. The other Solartians not far behind us, we had trampled down the stairs to reach the first row closest to the field.

"I'm just as close as you are." I try to kindly remind him, but stupidity isn't something I can tolerate much of at the moment. Since we are exactly at the same distance from Sawyer, I can see just as much as he can.

"Right." He responds sheepishly. On the field Headmistress Milton kneels over Sawyer and swivels her wand around doing what I can only assume are healing spells. Then the body is being levitated and steered to the tent. Mum helps the Essex volunteer to her feet, allowing the girl to use her shoulder for support. From here I can just make out the details of their uniform and long brown hair.

"I knew it was Cecilia!" Sebastian shouts upon seeing the person fully. That's the one who sent the letter and Sawyer refers to as sister despite that there is no blood relation. He waves exuberantly towards the field but she pays it no attention, keen on getting inside the tent.

"Ooh and Essex's champion is being escorted off the field for medical attention." He announces excitedly. "What an unexpected turn of events. Due to such odd circumstances, we'll have to wait for the judges to talk it out about the scoring. Zmetsna seems to be hastily trying to catch up, come on mate!" I see Scorpius helping Albus off the table, on shaky legs they slowly progress towards the tent as well. Turning away from the pitch I tug on Sebastian's sweater, discreetly getting his attention.

"Follow me." Just because we can't go on the field doesn't mean we can't go into the tent. Backtracking I go to the entrance we came through, there has to be a second opening to the tent for the champions to have been escorted without seeing the pitch. We slide through the crowd, not many people notice us. Exiting through the bottom level we loop around to the side the tent is on.

"Rose you're a genius." Sebastian says when we find the flap leading into the tent.

"I know." There's no point in trying to be subtle, they'll notice us regardless of our tact. Madame Wainscott is attending to Sawyer on one of the beds, everyone carefully hovering around her. Moving closer I nudge in between Scorpius and Al, they don't seem too surprised by my presence nodding somberly in greeting,

"She has deep cut on her upper left shoulder, stretching four inches and half an inch deep. Judging by the perfect edges of the torn flesh it was by a smooth, sharp point. This caused the worst of the blood loss, but not the only injury. It looks as if she attempted to heal it herself but was not completely successful" Leave it to Sawyer to obtain more than one serious injury. "In addition she's suffered from a fall of some sort, damaging her right side. Fortunately no cracked ribs, but she is severely tender down to the hip and may have a bruised pelvic bone. She'll survive but I would recommend keeping her in the Hospital Wing over night so she can heal properly and I can monitor her progress."

xxx

Madame Wainscott is considerably more lenient than the stories I've heard about the previous matron. According to Dad and Mum she was rather strict about having no more than six visitors at a time. Needless to say we had surpassed that amount, gathered around Sawyer's bed was Sebastian, Cecilia, Isabelle, Lysander, Albus, Scorpius, Michael, Lily and myself of course. Even though she was still unconscious no one had yet to leave. All still baffled by her performance and discussing it in hushed tones.

After Lukas finished his antidote, coming in third, the judges conversed with him and Scorpius to discuss their time in the wilderness simulation. Zmetsna had gleaned some information relevant to Sawyer, while exploring he noticed a graphorn trapped against a boulder and observed that one of his horns were dripping blood. They then determined that the only logical explanation is that Sawyer had encountered the beast resulting in injury. She's lucky that was the only damage done.

"Cecilia, stop. She's fine. Really, Cecilia!" Sebastian whisper-shouts at the Hispanic girl fluttering around Sawyer. Straightening out her sheets, refilling the pitcher with water, checking her bandages etc. Finally he locks onto her wrist as she reaches for Sawyer's blankets yet another time.

"Calm down Mama bear." Michael soothes. She smiles sheepishly and relaxes her hands back to her sides.

"Sorry about that, Sawyer is like my baby sister." For someone who was just on their own deathbed she hardly looks it. "I'm Cecilia by the way, pleasure to meet you."

"Rose, I'm Sawyer's host." I offer my hand out to her, and she turns it down gathering me up for a hug instead.

"I've heard so much about you, Sawyer's mentioned you in several of her letters." She has one of those charismatic personalities that you can't resist automatically responding to. Introductions occur throughout the group, her warm expression faltering only when she hears Scorpius being mentioned.

"I'm sure Sawyer just raves about me, what with my looks and undeniable charm." Lysander offers after acquainting himself. Cecilia just laughs kindly and angles herself to speak to Sebastian.

"Congratulations! I'm quite surprised you came in second considering your forte for potions." I mention to Scorpius.

"A matter of timing I suppose." He responds cordial but distant, as if something is bothering him. I see him gaze around briefly before inching closer to myself and Albus. "Al I had been meaning to ask you about the task."

"Yeah mate anything." Albus responds eager to help.

"About the poem you spoke of." He begins but registers the confused expression on his face, slowly continuing. "After regaining consciousness you recited a poem. It sounded as if there were lines missing."

"I don't remember a poem." Albus appears genuinely boggled. "Just you helping me off the bed is all."

"The poem?" Scorpius prods "-" He starts to speak but no words come out, pausing he takes a deep breath and tries again. "I can't say it." His tone dripping in frustration. " There must be a charm placed to prevent you from repeating it."

"Probably wiped from my memory as well."

"Alright dearies, I need to reapply Miss Grayson's bandages. So you best be going." Madame Wainscott saunters up to the bed already shooing us off like a mother hen. We all begrudgingly make our way towards the exit and I'm in step with Cecilia.

"Come along with me, and I can show you around for a bit."

**x (Sawyer's Perspective) x**

_Now there is something we owe_

_To continue the show_

_An inkling of what is to be_

_Coming from me._

_The people you hold dear_

_Will induce seven great fear_

_The greater they become_

_The closer you are to done_

_Struggle through the dark_

_Seek us at the ark_

_You will not hear us whinny_

_Though our number is many_

_Wander through the glade_

_To find what we have made_

_One hour is the time to look_

_Or your winning is forsook_

It's as if those words are seared into the back of my eyelids, reappearing every time I blink. Groggily flipping to the side I wince at the sudden aching pain raking my body. Oh yeah. With bleary eyes I squint into the dark, gauze is wrapped around my upper left shoulder, vanishing under the strap of my tank top. Pulling the material to the side I see that most of my right side starting at my ribcage all the way down past my hip is covered as well. Judging by the itchy feeling on my back it's there too. I can now honestly use the phrase "wrestled a graphorn" The row of beds and distinct smell of peppermint and disinfectant must mean I'm in the hospital wing. I can only assume no one else is in here because otherwise I would have woken them with my groans as I attempt to get up.

Testing out my limbs its not too bad actually, just not a pleasant feeling when you aren't expecting it. The bandages are more than a hindrance than anything. At least I'm not in one of those horrid hospital gowns that they use in muggle centers, that would be traumatizing. It all feels like a strange combination of hollow and heavy, a very contradicting sensation. The room is still dark it has to be either late at night or early in the morning, my watch isn't on my wrist so it's hard to say for sure. Succumbing to my body's needs I rise out of the bed, the stone floor sending a zing of cold through the soles of my feet. Tucked just under the bed are a pair of familiar slippers with teddy bear faces. These are Cecilia's, she must still be here. Wait I don't even know how the task ended, did my antidote work? Who won? Bahhh being stuck in here is so inconvenient, and where is my wand? I assumed it would be on the small stand next to the bed, but the only thing there is a glass and small pitcher of water.

I need to get out of this room! My mind must still be frazzled from the potions used on me because against all common sense I leave the wing without my wand to see or proper clothing.

**x (Scorpius's Perspective) x**

I often find that sleep evades and taunts you, leaping away the moment you believe it's in your grasp. I'd given up on any semblance of rest several hours ago. The natural occurrence after the day I've had would to be rendered unconscious at the next possible chance. Or so one would think. After returning from the Hospital Wing, I'd tried to challenge Al to a round of wizards chess in hopes that it would put me in a lethargic state, but his heart just wasn't in it. And the practice didn't have the relaxing effect I was aiming for. Every few minutes he would bring up Sawyer's American friend. Poor fellow had fallen prey to the shiny new toy syndrome once again. The small amount of sleep I had accomplished was fitful at best.

I'd spent the past hour wandering around the castle for entertainment, being caught wasn't an option seeing as how I had snagged Al's invisibility cloak. More than likely I could have made do without it, and on the off chance I was found out I could create some prefect excuse. But I wasn't particularly interested in human interaction for the time being. I had to hunch over in order to be covered, the translucent cloak skimming just above my ankles. Although uncomfortable, it was still preferable to chitchat and potentially detention. The upper levels had proved empty and I had instinctively circled back around to the Grand Hall.

Shuffling noises drift through the corridor and I pause before rounding the corridor, I might be invisible but still corporeal . Pressing into the alcove I wait and see if the person intends to come my way, After a few seconds the sound still hasn't left the area, who would risk getting caught by lingering in the Grand Hall for so long?

There's a figure fumbling around in the dark, although I can't precisely see who it is. The mystery person veers dangerously close to one of the full metal suits of armor. If they knock those over, we'll both be caught it will make such a noise. Bloody hell!

"Get off of me!" The stranger hisses, jerking their wrist from my grasp.

"Hush up you ninny, unless you had intentions of dancing with the armor. I must insist you quit your floundering"

"Scorpius?" Pulling the cloak off, it allows some light to permeate through the fabric. But not much.

The illuminated tip of my wand brightens the surrounding, just a few feet in front of me is a tangle of blonde hair and short stature.

"Blondie what are you doing outside of the Hospital Wing?" Gazing at her curiously, she's still in night clothes consisting of one of those tops without sleeves and pajama bottoms, and are those miniature bears on her feet?

"Er, sleep walking?"

"With the ruckus you were making that is more than believable." She sticks out her tongue out at me and clutches her arms around her even closer.

"Fine, I was rescuing myself from that dreadful place and headed back towards Gryffindor Tower."

"Without a wand?" Some of the corridors have torches, but not all. I have walked these halls countless times of the years but that's not an activity I would fancy attempting.

"I like a challenge." She mumbles.

"So I see. Considering how ill prepared you are, no wand and freezing. Here take my jumper." I offer her already shrugging it off. How daft could you be, castles aren't well known for retaining heat.

"No, I'm fine." Hastily uncrossing her arms to prove a point. "It's practically the tropics in here." Propping her hands on her hips, she grimaces briefly at the contact against her bandaged side.

"Balmy" Rolling my eyes at her, stubborn American. Without her permission I place it on her shoulders careful to avoid putting pressure on the left one. Even in the dim light I can see she's scowling at me. She must be taking notes from Rose because she has the narrowed eyes and pursed lips down perfectly. Huffing in defeat she slides her arms into the jumper, its comically large on her small frame. The sleeves falling several inches past her hands. It has an endearing affect, and I can't help but appreciate how she fills certain aspects more sufficiently than I do. However this is all ruined when there's a loud grumbling.

"Did an animal just die?" Judging by the rapid blush covering her face, the sound was emitting from her.

"That was my stomach's impression of a whale's mating call." She admits staring intently at the cobblestone flooring. I can't seem to help but laugh at her automatic response, suddenly there's a hand covering my mouth.

"Are you trying to get us caught?!" She whispers vehemently at me. Shaking my head she removes the hand. Clearing her throat she awkwardly backs up and I realize just how close in proximity we were.

"Come on let's go." Pivoting on my heel without even checking to see if she's following me. "I don't want to be accused of sabotage when the competition hurts herself falling down the grand staircase because she couldn't see where she was walking." Going by the pattering of foot-steps, she's behind me.

"I might not have the best sense of direction. But I distinctly remember that Gryffindor Tower is up the stairs." Keeping a quick pace besides me, one of my strides is the equivalent of two of her's.

"Quite right, your skills of deduction are simply riveting." She scoffs at this but offers nothing further. "The kitchen is located in the basement though, hence our going downstairs. Now correct me if I'm wrong but the obscene sound your stomach just made was due to lack of food?"

"No-" Sawyer is interrupted by her own stomach, speaking for her. I smirk down at her in response. We're silent the rest of the trip down to the basement. The pathway too the kitchens isn't what you would anticipate, it's more brightly lit with torches and with several cheerful paintings of food hung on the walls. Curving around the last corridor is the giant picture of fruit looming up ahead. I can't help but wonder what she's thinking about as she prods along beside me without making a peep. The only sound being the scrapping against the stones every time she shuffles with the slippers on.

"You're going to want to step back." Reaching forward I tickle the pear, it wiggles for just a moment and then a door knob emerges. "Ladies first." I step aside allowing her to walk past me, a woodsy floral scent trailing just after her.

"Do you come down here often?" Sawyer asks as we enter the kitchens, instantly the warmth and smell of the kitchens overwhelm my senses, you can't help but to feel cozy here.

"Sometimes, when I can't sleep." I subconsciously shrug my shoulders.

"Mister Malfoy, what a pleasant surprise!" Without warning I'm being assaulted around my knees, wrapped around my legs is a house elf bedecked in a oversized Union Jack top.

"Mellie, I've told you. Please do call me Scorpius." The little elf giggles and detaches herself from me. Peering around me she takes note of Sawyer standing just to the side of me, pushing the sleeves up again. The little house elf's violet eyes widen even more, didn't think it possible. She starts yanking on the hem of my shirt to get me my attention and gestures for me to lean down.

"Sir, this isn't Mister Potter or Miss Weasley." Mellie attempts to whisper but when I look back over my shoulder I see that Sawyer has gone pink.

"This is my American friend Sawyer." I introduce straitening up "Don't tell her your last name, or she will never address you otherwise." Whispering to her. "Sawyer this is my favorite kitchen aide, Mellie." Naturally Sawyer smiles awkwardly while Mellie curtsies. Right on cue her stomach starts grumbling again. The house elf grins knowingly and ushers us over to one of the five tables, like an overly doting mother she already has mugs of hot cocoa in our hands. I wave to the other house elves as we pass by, but they're too consumed with their early morning tasks to pay any attention to us.

"Oh but, I already know Miss Grayson's last name, I do." The elf squeaks. "She's the third champion."

" I tried." I murmur in defeat. "My friend here is on the brink of withering away, so I figured it would be blasphemous to bring her anywhere else but to you."

"You thought right you did, yes sir, indeed" Millie beaming with pride. "I know just the thing." She nods frantically already speeding back into the thick of things.

"So I take it you can't sleep most nights?" Sawyer asks in between sips of her drink.

"I come here a few evenings a week." I admit slowly. She nods leaving it at that. Gazing around the room she takes it all in. I remember first time Albus, Rose and I came down here. With the help of Al's map we figured it out eventually, getting in was proving to be the challenge. On a happenstance Mellie was coming out of the portrait to do something or other and told us the secret to entering. The three of us have been visiting the kitchens ever sense, sometimes they were with me. Sometimes they were not, like on nights like these.

"My apologies, what was that?" I hadn't realized Sawyer was speaking until she waved her hand in front of my face.

"I was asking, erm, how did the first task end?" She rushes out the question so quickly it takes a minute to make any sense of it. I'd forgotten that she has no idea whether her friend woke up or not.

"Yes about that." I start out, she's practically on the edge of her seat, literally. "You came in first place, well done." From most people you would expect them to be ecstatic hearing such a thing.

"And Cecilia, she's okay?" Answering is difficult, considering she won't stop even breathe. "Did the antidote work? She woke up, no weird side effects. Does she have six toes, purple skin? Oh Merlin she's going to look like Barney!"

"Blondie! She is fine, the antidote worked perfectly. Otherwise you wouldn't have won." She visibly relaxes upon hearing the news.

"Oh, okay then." Sawyer crinkles her nose in distaste, then begins giggling. "Sorry I can be such a spaz." Her laughter is infectious and I naturally join in. Peering down, I catch her in a rare moment, caught in between a smile and laugh there's a small dimple just to the left of her mouth.

"Here we go duckies, specially made just for you." Levitating dishes drift down to the table, I'm assaulted by buttery chocolate and the sugary scent of syrup. "Chocolate-chip waffles, warm maple syrup, and it's not breakfast without bacon." Last to be set down, goblets of milk and silverware.

"Thank you so much!" Sawyer gushes, without forewarning she spins on the bench and wraps the wee elf into a hug. Mellie's confusion quickly transforms into utter delight and she attempts to hug her back,

but unable to do so with her short arms. "Sorry I come from an affectionate family." Apologizing after letting go of, her left arm settling awkwardly back to her side. Cheeks turning crimson at how unexpected her actions were.

"No no no, Mellie loves hugs, do not say you are sorry Miss Sawyer." Had I known that it only took hugging the elf to get her to call you by less formal terms, I would have done so years ago. "I hope you enjoy." With that she's off again.

"Affectionate family, eh?" She nods absentmindedly, too distracted by adorning her plate with waffles and bacon. "Odd I don't recall ever receiving any hugs." I rib hoping to catch her off guard.

"You've also never brought me chocolate chip waffles and bacon."

"I brought you down here, and therefore by extension I brought you chocolate chip waffles and bacon."

"Nice try." She replies swallowing down a huge bite of waffles. Not very delicate is she, must have been observing Albus's table manners. "'A' for Effort"

"Effort begins with an 'E'" I reply before picking at my own waffles.

"It's just an expression. " Rolling her eyes at me as if I should know. We lapse back into silence, the hum of elves constant work making it durable. Its not entirely uncomfortable, especially since it only lasts for a few minutes and then we're done eating.

"What exactly do we do with the plates?" Sawyer asks tentatively. Then with a determined expression on her face she begins to stack them up in a pile. Reaching with her good arm to grab them when they disappear right in front of her and there's the resounding echo of a snap. "Wait, what?" Quirking an eyebrow in confusion. Just behind her stands Mellie a pleased look on her face.

"No Miss Sawyer, we take care of those."

"But I wanted to help." Being used to the same ordeal with Rose whenever she comes to the kitchens, Mellie just brushes off her insistence.

"How did you plan on helping without a wand?" I ask her. Sawyer stares at me oddly and holds her hands up wiggling her slender fingers.

"I'm more than capable of washing dishes." She informs me, like that would be the obvious solution. I don't quite know what to make of that.

"Thank you very, very much Miss Sawyer, but we can take of that ourselves with magic." Mellie admits her face with just a tinge of pink. I've never seen a house elf blush before.

"No thank you, it was unbelievably delicious." She grins widely and bounces from foot to foot not quite sure what to do with herself. Mellie just curtsies again, a green apple materializing in her hands.

"Master Malfoy, so good to see you again. Bring her with you next time!" She tosses me the treat and

urges us back to the entrance. "Much too busy, breakfast soon! Bye now!"

**x (Sawyer's Perspective) x**

"Curse you and your snoring!" Ignoring the yells I wrap my head up in the covers. "Get up Sissy!"

"Mommy I don't want to go to school." I grumble snuggling even deeper into the blankets, ignoring the grating voices.

"There will be coffee" A voice coaxes, muffled from the the layers I'm hiding under.

"No."

"_Glacius"_ Ice seeps through the sheets as the mattress is frozen solid. Flailing about I roll as fast as I can landing on the floor. A twinge just a bit at the jarring effect it has on my wounds. "I've been doing that for years, works every time."

"Okay I'm up, I'm up." After pushing the blonde curtain of hair out of my face, I can see Rose and Cecilia looking down at me haughtily.

"I'll have to keep that one in mind, next time she's oversleeping." Rose comments. "It's past noon, sleeping beauty." Sitting up I glare at both of them, deciding which hex would be the most justified. Then I remember I still don't know where my wand is.

"You are evil people that hell spat up to specifically torture me."

"I missed you too." Cecilia warmly responds grinning at me angelically. "You are an awful excuse for a tour guide. Rose and Sebastian have already shown me majority of the castle and escorted me to breakfast. While you practiced your deep meditation skills, but since you did save my life yesterday, I guess I'll let it slide." She plops down on my bed that she reverted back to normal, doing the normal thing I lunge at her with a tremendous hug.

"Please don't voluntarily take a deathly poison for some dumb tournament ever again!"

"Nothing would have actually happened to me. In case you failed, which I knew you wouldn't, they had antidotes ready to go."

"Oh" That's a horse of a different color then.

"Yup, and you've probably been looking for this." Leaning over she pulls out the top drawer of the nightstand. "Your wand my dear, they sent it with me to give to you. Besides how could I pass up an opportunity to come and visit the legendary Hogwarts?"

"Touche." Groaning as I get up "Just give me a sec so I can get ready, I'm not going out like this." I wave a hand gesturing to my glorious pajamas. Being a human really sucks sometimes.

xxx

My bones hurt, my limbs ache, even my hair feels weary. I think that wizards have somehow managed to add more hours to a day. I don't know how or why but it was a cruel decision to do so. Despite Madam Wainscott's best efforts I'm still kind of sore and the wounds feel itchy. But going to Hogsmeade was unavoidable, Albus would have killed me if I had left him to pick up the rest of the ingredients needed for the Polyjuice Potion. And I would have never forgiven myself if I hadn't shown Cecilia around. Plus, I'd never been there either, it was magical, and that's coming from a witch. Cozy little cottages blanketed in snow like a Christmas globe, twinkle lights, holly wreathes, and most dangerous the mistletoe. The shops were amazing, they had to drag me out of Honeydukes and wouldn't even let me poke into Tomes and Scrolls. I'm sure if we hadn't needed supplies, they would have never informed of Dogweed and Deathcap.

After hours of chatting, catching up, playing tour guide, and devouring chocolate frogs; Cecilia had to leave. I tried to persuade her to stay, she could live in my suitcase at the end of the bed and I would sneak her left overs from dinner. But she wouldn't budge. She had come out here on Thanksgiving vacation and had school tomorrow. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't teared up when we hugged goodbye.

Then Rose all but forced me to go take a bath, I'd tried to play off my tenseness on the task and all I wanted to do was go to bed. But she insisted that I should bathe first, it would make me sleep better and dreamless. When that didn't work she pulled out the 'you smell like hippogriff dung' card. That's how I found myself in the Room of Requirement sinking in a luxurious tub. Rose offered the prefects bathroom, but a bathtub that I would be submerged in all the other peoples germs? No thank you. I'd rather keep my delusions thinking I could ask the room to be completely clean.

The sleepy feeling of warm water soaking into my bones, combined with the honeysuckle scented bubbles has me drifting into a lethargic haze. My heavy lids have just closed when I hear the door creaking open. What the Hades, I specifically requested the room stay locked to intruders and yet here one is?!

I squeak when a robe clad figure emerges from the opening, starting to rise up when I violently remember I'm completely naked and the avalanche of bubbles offers more privacy.

"Excuse you!" I shrill at the stranger, who still has the hood of the robe blocking their face. The person abruptly raises their head as if they didn't realize someone else was in here.

"Oh sorry Blondie didn't see you there." Taking down the deep green hood to reveal the face I already knew was there upon hearing the 'loving' nickname.

"Get out!" Is the only proper sentence I seem to be capable of forming at the moment.

"How about not." He remarks and begins to shrug off the robe, I start to close my eyes but then realize he still has flannel pajamas on and a lose t-shirt. I'm not sure whether the sigh I heave is of relief or disappointment but I don't have time linger on it as he reaches for the hem of his shirt.

"Scorpius!"

"You know this isn't how I pictured the moment when you would be screaming my name." Completely nonchalant like he was commenting on an assignment, and not scandalous matters. His infamous smirk gracing his features as he drops the discarded article of clothing to the floor prowling closer until he's just a few feet away from my position. I command my jaw to remain closed as I take in his bare torso. The decent thing to do would be to look away, close my eyes, or at least not blatantly stare. But my eyes don't like the first two options. The dim lighting of the room emphasizes the contours of pale skin that is pulled taut over his muscled abdomen and chest. Which is shocking considering his lean figure.

"Merlin you have it steaming in here." Scorpius comments and I drag my attention upward from the bead of sweat I was tracking as it raced down across his ribs.

"What are you doing?" I finally muster.

"Well Sawyer, where I come from people bathe without clothes on." He taunts crossing his arms over his chest, from the smug look he's giving its obvious he knew I was checking him out. Oops. "But from what I can see you've already familiar with the method." Sliding deeper into the mass of bubbles to prevent him from further inspecting my body, when his gaze returns back to mine I can barely discern the quicksilver color his eyes have dilated so much.

"You're just going to have to wait until I'm done then." There, that sounded like English. "I was here first."

"I just walked my sexy ass all the way up here from the dungeons. There is no way in hell I'm going to wait for you to finish pruning." Prowling dangerously closer to the tub, he's standing just above me. Thank Merlin I practically overdosed the tub with bubble bath.

"I'm not even out yet!"

"No worries my parents taught me how to share." Is his face permanently frozen into that seductive grin?

"Um, yeah." I fumble searching for words. " I know we had that lovely bonding experience this morning. But er, bath time is kind of an alone activity. So if, if-, you would be so kind as to leave, that would be great."

Scorpius refuses to break our staring contest as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his pajamas. I squeeze my eyes shut attempting to not see his bits and pieces, he snickers at my childish response, and I hear the quiet rasp of the clothing hitting the ground. Uh oh, all is quiet and I'm thinking that he decided to leave after all. That theory goes out the door when finger tips ghost over the line of my shoulders.

_Holy Hades!_ Jerking my head from the icy depths of water, what just happened?! Frantically looking around I notice that I'm still in the Room of Requirement but there is absolutely no one else in here. No discarded clothing, forgotten robe, or a smirking Scorpius. None of it was real, just a figment of my very much perverted imagination, simply a dream. Albeit a steamy one, quite literally, sucking in a deep breath to calm my rattled nerves. When the exhalation mists in the air I notice just how cold it truly is, my skin stings as the freezing temperature seeps in. It must be an automatic mechanism the room uses in case you fall asleep while bathing. That way you don't accidentally drown with no one being the wiser. It's certainly effective.

I bolt from the arctic tub, reaching for the plush towel hanging off the delicate chair. What was all that about? Yeah I've liked guys before, or at least thought they were hot. But even when I was infatuated with Julian I didn't have dreams like _that_. Confusion is an understatement, this morning was the first I'd actually spent time with Scorpius without feeling the need to smack him upside the head. So maybe I did a little bit, but it was different being around him without every one else. More relaxed, not so uptight, and just a tiny bit charming. Not that I would every tell him that, but just because of getting to know someone that is moderately attractive my brain has regurgitated hormones into strange dreams. Okay might as well and man up and call them what they are; fantasies.

* * *

**A/N:** **Too much fluff? I really debated on the whole kitchen scene, but it popped in my head and demanded to be written! Any opinions on such? ****Muwahahahaha! I told you there would be a difference, didn't I :)? Love it, hate it, freaked out a bit? Its okay if you are, I think Sawyer is too. Now I'm curious, is there any characters you would like to see there point of view from? Or maybe a suggestion about an event you would like to occur. Although it is my story, I'm always open to advice and kind of like a challenge if it wouldn't throw the story out of whack. Toodles :D!**


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